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Sire Thopas and ye Gaunt Oliphaunt. 



THE 



Poetical Works 



OP 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER. 



A ^'i.W TEXT. WITH ILLUSTRATIVE XOTES. 



BY 



THOMAS WRIGPIT, Esq., 

M.A., F.S.A., ETC. 



ILLUSTRATED, 



CHICAGO AND NEW YORK: 
BELFORD, CLAEKE & CO. 

1884 






PRINTED AND BOUND BY 

DONOHUE & Henneberry, 
CHICAGO. 

QIFT 
ESTATE OF 
VICTOR S. CLARK 
SEPT. 3, 184a 
THf LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




CONTENTS. 



Introduction 1 

Canterbury Tales 19 

The Cuckow and Nightingale .... 271 

The Assembly op Foules 578 

Minor Poei^'s ...»..». 595 

Glossary ....*.,.. 605 



INTRODUCTION. 



For al)outtwo centuries after the Norman conquest, AnGflo- 
Normau \v'as almost exclusively the language of literature in 
this country. The few exceptions belong to the last expiring 
remains of an older and totally different Anglo-Saxon style, or 
to the first attempts of a new English one, formed upon a Nor- 
man model. Of the two grand monumeuts of the poetry of 
this period, Layamon belongs to the former of these classes, and 
the singular poem entitled the Ormulum to the latter. After 
the middle of the thirteenth century, the attempts at poetical 
composition in English became more frequent and more success- 
ful, and previous to the age of Chaucer we have several poems 
of a very remarkable character, and some good imitations of 
the harmony and spirit of the French versification of the time. 

During this latter period there had been a great movement in 
intelligence and art throughout Europe, which was showing itself 
sometimes in one place and sometimes in another, and which 
was giving great promises of a splendid future. By the end of 
the thirteenth century it broke out in Italy in Dante, and a 
little later in Petrarch. In France it showed itself in a multi- 
tude of poetical compositions, remarkable for their spirit and 
liarmony of versiMcation. In England it became magnificently 
embo<lied in Chaucer, almost to rise and die with him ; for two 
centuries passed away before another poet was produced who 
could lay any claim to rivalry with his great predecessor. 

According to the best information that can be collected, 
Geoffiey Chaucer was born somewhere near the year 1328,* his 
family being apparently citizens of London. The accounts of 
liis earlier years and of his education are vague and unsatisfac- 
tory ; but he was certainly a man of extensive learning, and he 
had the education of a gentleman . he is generally believed to 
have been bred to the law. We learn from Chaucer's own 
testimony, given at a later period, in the case of the Grosvenor 

* The following notice of the personal history of the poet is chiefly an 
abridgment of the Life of Chmirer by Sir Harris Nicolas, who gathered to- 
pe ther a mass of curious facts from the public records, many of them not 
Enown before. 



INTRODUCTION. 



peerage, that in the autumn of 1359 he was in the army with 
which Edward III. invaded France, which was his first military 
service, and that he was made prisoner by the French during 
tlic expedition which terminated with the peace of Chartres in 
May, 1360. 

We know nothing further of Chaucer's history until 1367, 
when a pension of twenty marks yearly for life was granted by 
the king to the poet, as one of the valets of the king's chamber, 
in consideration of his services. About the same time he mar- 
ried Philippa, one of the ladies in attendance on the queen, 
who is said to have been the eldest daughter of Sir Payne 
Koet, king-of-arras of Guienne, and sister of Katherine, widow 
of Sir Hugh Swynford, and subsequently wife of John of 
Gaunt, duke of Lancaster. In 1370, as we find from the rec- 
ords, Chaucer was employed in the king's service abroad. 
Two years after this, on the 12th of November, 1372, the poet 
was sent on a mission to Genoa, to treat on the choice of a port 
in England where the Genoese might form a commercial estab- 
lishment ; he appears to have remained in Italy nearly a year, 
as Ave do not trace him in England until the latter part of No- 
vember, 1373, and we then find, by the allowance of his ex- 
penses, that he had been on the king's service to Florence as 
well as to Genoa. Wo are, unfortunately, in perfect ignorance 
of Chaucer's movements in Italy ; and the statement of the old 
biographers that he visited Petrarch at Padua, is founded on 
mere suiipositions totally unsupported by any known evidence. 
It can liardly be believed, however, that Chaucer did not profit 
by the opportunity thus afforded him of improving his acquaint- 
ance with the poetry, if not with the poets, of the country he 
thus visited, whose influence was now being felt on the litera- 
ture of most countries of Western Europe, He was evidently 
well acquainted with the writings of Dante, and probably with 
those of Petrarch, if not with those of Poccaccio. He dis- 
tinctly quotes the former poet more than once ; tims, in the 
Wife of Bath's Tale :— 

** Wei can the wyse poet of Florence, 
That hatte Daunt, speke of this sentence." 

The " sentence," as Chaucer gives it, is almost a literal trans- 
lation from the Purgatorio. It may be observed also, that the in- 
ference from this and other circumstances is strongly in favor 
of the belief that Chaucer was well acquainted with tlie Italian 
language, which Sir Harris Nicolas doubts, I think without 
sufficient reason. 

That Chaucer acquitted himself well as an ambassador, and 
that the king was satisfied with his services, we can have no 
doubt ; for on the 2cid of April following the monarch made 



INTRODUCTION. 5 



him a grant for life of a pitcher of wine daily, an appropriate 
gift for a poet, but which nevertheless seems to have been soon 
commuted for the payment of its value in money. About sis 
weeks after this, on the 8th of June, 1374, Chaucer was ap- 
pointed comptroller of the customs and subsidy of wools, skins, 
and tanned hides in the port of London ; and it was stipulated 
that he should write the rolls of his office with his own hand, 
and perform his duties personally and not by deputy. This 
might be supposed to show that Chaucer's poetical talents were 
not very generously appreciated ; but it appears in reality that 
it was a mere formula of the grant of the office. From this 
time to the end of the reign of Edward III., the poet continued 
to enjoy the royal favor ; and he not oi:ly received several 
marks of his sovereign's generosity, but he was employed fre- 
quently in public service of importance. During the last year 
of Edward's reign, a. d. 1377, he was sent successively to Flan- 
ders and to France, being in the first mission associated with 
Sir Thomas Percy (afterwards Earl of Worcester), and in the 
second attached to an embassy to treat of peace with Charles V. 
It is probable that Chaucer was re-appointed one of the 
king's esquires on the accession of Kichard II., and he certain- 
ly did not decline in court favor. In the middle of January, 
1378, he was again sent to France, attaclied to an embassy, the 
object of which was to negotiate Xing Richard's marriage with 
a daughter of the Fiencli monarch. His stay in France was 
not long, for in the May of the same year he was employed on 
a new mission, being sent witli Sir Edward Berkely to Lom- 
bardy, to treat with Bernardo Visconti, Lord of Milan, and the 
celebrated Sir John Hawkwood, api)arently to persuade them 
to assist in some warlike expedition contemplated by the Eng- 
lish government ; and from this mission Cliaucer appears not 
to have returned until the end of the year. It was on this oc- 
casion that Chaucer nominated as one of his representatives, in 
case of any legal proceedings during his absence (to which peo- 
ple in those days were liable), John Gower, a ciicumstance 
which establishes the fact of the intimate friendsh'q* between 
the two poets. We know that Chaucer dedicated his Trnilus 
and Creseide, written in the sixteenth year of the reign of 
Richard II. (1392-3), to Gower; and the latter poet, in the 
Confessio Amantisj makes Venus say of Chaucer : 

" And grete wel Chaucer, when ye mete, 
Ab my diBciple and my poete ; 
For in the tloures of hiB youthe, 
In sondry wyse, as he wel couthe. 
Of dytees and of eonges glade, 
The whiche he for my sake made, 
The lande fulfylled is over ulle ; 
Whereof to him in specyalle. 
Above all other, 1 am most holde. 



INTRODUCTTON. 



Forthy nowe in his dayes olde 
Tilou BLalle liim telle this message, 
That he uppon his latter age, 
To sette an end of al his werke, 
Ad he wliiche is niyn owne clerke, 
Do make his Testament of Love, 
As th< >u hast done thy shrift above, 
So that my courte yt may recoide." 

It has been supposed, on very slight grounds, that Chaucer's 
friendship for (iower met with some interruption towards the 
end of his life.* 

Soon after his return from Italy, Chaucer appears to have 
been again employed on foreign service, for the records sliow 
that he was absent from May to December, 1379. In 1382 he 
received the appointment of comptroller of the petty customs of 
the port of London, in addition to his previous office of comp- 
troller of the customs and subsidies ; and in February, 1385, he 
obtained the still greater favor of being allowed to nominate a 
permanent deputy, by w^hich the poet must have been partially 
released from duties which can never have been agreeable to 
his tastes. 

Several circumstances show that Chaucer had some intimate 
connection with the county of Kent, where he probably held 
property ; and he was elected a knight of the shire for that 
county in the parliament which met at Westminster on the 1st 
of October, 1386, and which closed its session on the 1st of No- 
vember following ; shortly after which (before the 4th of 
December, 1386j Chaucer was dismissed from his employments, 
but for what reason we have not the slightest intimation, 
though it was doubtless connected with some of the petty in- 
trigues of this intriguing reign. Probably, as Sir Harris Nic- 
olas supposes, he had become obnoxious to the Duke of 
Gloucester and the other ministers who had succeeded his pa- 
tron, the Duke of Lancaster, in the government ; and it is well 
known that tlie proceedings of the parliament just alluded to 
were directed against the Duke of Lancaster's party. 

We know nothing further of Chaucer's history until the 
year 1388, except that he continued regularly to receive his two 
pensions of twenty marks each ; but on the 1st of May in the 
latter year, the grants of these pensions were at his request 
cancelled, and the annuities assigned to John Scalby, which has 
been considered as a proof that the poet was at that time in 
distress, and obliged to sell his pensions. Exactly a year after 
this, in May, 1389, on the young king's assumption of the reins 
of government, the Duke of Lancaster's party were restored to 
power, and Chaucer again appeared at court. On the 12th of 
July, the poet was appointed to the valuable office of clerk of 

♦ See a note on the Man of Law's Tale, L 4498, and Sir H. Nicolas's L\fe 
of Chancery p. 39. 



INTRODUCTION. 5 



the king's worts at the palace of Westminster, the Tower of 
London, the castle of Beikhamstead, and the royal manors of 
Kennington, Eltham, Clarendon, Sheen, Byfleet, Childern 
Langley, and Feckenham, at the royal lodge of Hathenburgh in 
the New Forest, at the lodges in the parks of Clarendon, Chil- 
dern Langley, and Feckenham, and at the mews for the king's 
talcons at Charing Cross. He was expressly permitted to per- 
form his duties by deputy, and his salary was fixed at two 
shillings a day. Chaucer held this office, however, only two 
years, having been dismissed from it before the 16th of Sep- 
tember, 1391, but the cause of his removal is unknown. 

During the latter years of Richard's reign Chaucer was evi- 
dently suffering from poverty ; for instead of receiving, as for- 
merly, his pension in half-yearly payments when due, we find 
him constantly taking sums in advance ; and as these were not 
always paid into his own hands we are led to suppose that he 
was laboring under sickness as well as want. He was now aged 
as well as poor and needy ; but the accession of Henry IV. 
came suddenly to cast a gleam of brightness on his declining 
days. Within four days after he came to the throne, Henry 
granted him, on the 3d of October, 1399, a yearly pension of 
forty marks, in addition to the annuity of twenty pounds 
which had been given him by King Richard. On Christmas 
eve, 1399, the poet obtained the lease of a house near West- 
minster Abbey, where it is probable that he closed his days. 
His name appears in the issue rolls, as continuing to receive 
his pension, until the 1st of IVIarch, 1400, when it was received 
for him by Henry Somere, the clerk of the receipt of the ex- 
chequer, who is supposed to have been a relation of the "frere 
John Somere," whose calendar is mentioned in Chaucer's 
treatise on the Astrolabe. Chaucer is stated, and with prob- 
able correctness, in an epitaph placed in 1550 near his grave in 
Westminster Abbey by Nicholas Brigham (a poet of that time), 
to have died on the 25th of October, 1400, at which time, ac- 
cording to the supposed date of his birth, he would have 
reached the age of seventy-two. 

The above are all the circumstances of importance connected 
with the life of Chaucer that are known to be true. Although, 
in the documents in which they are found, he is looked upon 
only as an actor in the eventful politics of the day, we have 
other evidence that his poetical talents were highly appreciated 
by his contemporaries, as well as in the age which follo\v'ed his 
death. By the English poets of his time, Gower and Occleve, 
he is spoken of in the warmest terms of praise ; and that his 
reputation was high on the continent, we have a remarkable 
proof in a ballad addressed to him by the French poet Eustace 
Deschamps, which has been printed in ISir Harris Nicolas's 



inthoductton. 



Life and in my Anecdota Literaiia. This latter document shows 
us also that Chaucer was on terras of friendship at least with 
the French poets of his day. Occleve not only paid a tribute 
of affection to his " maister" in his poetry, but he painted his 
portrait in the margin of the manuscript ; and this portrait, 
evidently a good one, was copied at diiferent times and in dif- 
ferent forms, and was no doubt the original of all the portraits 
of Chaucer we now have. The best copy appears to be that in 
the Harleian Ms. No. 4866. 

THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Chaucer's capital work is undoubtedly the Canterbury Tales. 
The idea of thus joining together a number of stories by means 
of a connecting narrative, or frame, appears to have originated 
in the East ; but long before the time of Chaucer it had been 
made popular in Europe by the Disciplina Clericalis of Peter 
Alfonsi and its translations, and by the still more widely-spread 
romance of the Seven Sages. It is probable that the latter, of 
which an edition has been published by the l^ercy Society, gave 
Chaucer the hint of his plot, rather than the Decameron, with 
which I think it doubtful if Chaucer were acquainted. But 
Chaucer's plan was far superior to that of any of the similar 
collections which had preceded it, not only for the opportuni- 
ty it afforded for diversity of style in the stories, but for the 
variety of character it admitted in the personages to be intro- 
duced. The general introduction to the Canterbury Tales is 
one of the most perfect compositions in the English language. 

The Canterbury Tales appear to have been the compilation of 
Chaucer's latter years ; for they contain allusions to events so late 
as the year 1386, and if (as there ajipears little room for doubt) 
there are allusions in the Ma7i of Lawes Tale to the Confessio 
Amantis of Gower, this part of tlie work must have been com- 
posed at a still later period, as that poem is stated by its author 
to have been written in the sixteenth year of the reign of Rich- 
ard II., i. €., 1392-3. I have used the word compilation, because 
it api)ears to me not only evident that Chaucer composed the 
Canterbury Tales not continuously, but in different portions 
which were afterwards to be joined together; but it is more 
than probable that he worked up into it tales which had 
originally been written, and perhaps published, as separate 
poems. Chaucer tells us, in the Legend of Good Women, that 
he had thus published the Knightes Tale, — 



" Al the love of Palamon and Arcite, 
Of Tbcbea, though the storie is kuowen lite; " 

well as the life of St. Cecilia, or the Second Nonnes Tale, — 
<« And made the life also of Saint Cecilo." 



INTRODUCTION, 



It is quite clear that we possess the Canterbury Tales in an 
unfinished form. Tyrwhitt makes the following general ob- 
servations on this subject : — 

" The general plan of the Canterhury Tales may be learned 
in a great measure from the prologue which Chaucer himself 
has prefixed to them. He supposes there that a company of 
pilgrims going to Canterbury assemble at an inn in Southwark, 
and agree that, for their common amusement on the road, each 
of them shall tell at least one tale in going to Canterbury, and 
another in coming back from thence ; and that he who shall tnll 
the best tales shall be treated by the rest with a supper upon their 
return to the same inn. This is, shortly, iho. fable. The char- 
acters of the pilgrims are as various as, at that time, could be 
iound in the various departments of middle life ; that is, in 
fact, as various as could, with any probability, be brought to- 
gether, so as to form one company ; the highest and the lowest 
ranks of society being necessarily excluded. It appears, fur- 
ther, that the design of Chaucer was not barely to recite the tales 
told by the pilgrims, but also to describe their journey. And 
all the 7'emnant of their pilgrimage [ver. 72G] ; including, prob- 
ably, their adventures at Canterbury as well as upon the road. 
If we add, that the tales, besides being nicely adapted to the 
characters of their respective relators, were intended to be con- 
nected together by suitable introductions, and interspersed with 
diverting episodes, and that the greatest part of them was to 
have been executed in verse, we shall have a tolerable idea of 
the extent and difficulty of the whole undertaking ; and admir- 
ing, as we nmst, the vigor of that genius which in an advanced 
age could begin so vast a work, we shall rather lament than be 
surprised that it has been left imperfect. In truth, if we com- 
pare those parts of the Canterhury Tales of which we are in posses- 
sion, with the sketch which has been just given of the intended 
whole, it will be found that more than one-half is wanting. 
The priilogue we have, perhaps, nearly complete, and the great- 
est part of the journey to Canterbury; but not a word of the 
transactions at Canterbury, or of the journey homeward, or of 
the e})ilogue, which, we may suppose, was to have concluded 
the work, with an account of the prize supper and the separa- 
tion of the company. Even in that part which we have of the 
journey to Canterbury, it will be necessary to take notice of 
certain defects and inconsistencies, which can only be accounted 
for upon the supposition that the work was never finished by 
the author." 

After a careful consideration of this question, I am inclined 
to believe that Chaucer not only left his grand poem in an un- 
finished state, but that he left it in detached portions only par- 
tially arranged, and that it was reduced to its present form 



INTRODUCTION, 



after his death. This would explain satisfactorily the great 
variations of the manuscripts in the order of the tales, and the 
evident want of the connecting prologue in more than one in 
stance. All the manuscripts agree in the order of the tales of 
the knight, miller, reve, and cook, and in placing them imme- 
diately after the general prologue, and it is therefore probable 
that they were left in that state by Chaucer. The Cookes Tale 
was evidently left unfinished by the author, and it was prob- 
ably the person who reduced the whole to its present form that 
first introduced the tale of Gamelyn, to fill up what he sup- 
posed a lacuna, but whence he obtained this tale it is difficult 
to conjecture. 'J'yrwhitt is so entirely wrong in saying that this 
tale is not found in any mamiscript of the first authority, that 
it occurs in the Harleian JNls. fi-oni wiiich the present text is 
taken, and which I have no hesitation in stating to be the best 
and oldest manuscript of Chaucer I have yet met with. The 
style of Gamelyn would lead us to judge that it is not Chaucer's, 
but we can only reconcile this judgment with its being found 
so universally in the manuscripts, by means of the supposition 
of the posthumous arrangement of the Canierlmry Tales, and 
its insertion by the arranger. I have printed the tale of Game- 
lyn from the same Plarleian Ms. which has been the base of 
my text of the remainder of the poem ; but I have distinguished 
it from the rest by |»rinting it in smaller type, both on account 
of the apparently well-founded doubts of its being a genuine 
work of Chaucer, and in order not to interfere with the num- 
bering of the lines in Tyrwhitt's edition, which I have thought 
it advisable to preserve. 

After the Cookes Tale, the order of the tales differs very 
much in different manuscripts, until we arrive at the tale of the 
Manciple, with which, and the Parson'' s Tale, they all conclude. 
In the present text, I have strictly followed the Harleian manu- 
script, which agrees nearly with the order adopted by Tyrwhitt. 
The Man of Lawes Tale is not connected by its prologue with 
the tale which precedes it ; and the Wyf of Bathes Tale evi- 
dently wants a few introductory lines, which Chaucer would 
have added had he lived to complete the poem. It is not im- 
probable that in the state in which he left it, the Wife of Bath's 
prologue was the beginning of a portion of manuscript which 
contained the tales of the Wife of Bath, the Friar, and the 
Sompnour ; and perha])S those of the Clerk, the Mercliant, and 
the Squier, formed another portion. This latter portion ap- 
pears to have been left unfinished, for the Squieres Tale breaks 
off abruptly in the middle, which is the more to be regretted, 
as it is one of Chaucer's best stories, and it is a story not found 
elsewhere. It ajipears by its prologue, that the Frankeleynes 
Tale was intended to follow the Squieres Tale. The Second 



TNTRODUCTION, 



Nonnes TaU^ or the life of St. Cecilia, has no prologue, and ap- 
pears to be in the same form in which it was originally written 
for separate publication. The prologue to the Chanones Ye- 
tnannes Tale shows that this latter was intended to follow the 
Life of St. Cecilia. These two tales are placed, in Tyrwhitt's 
edition, after the tale of the Nun's Priest. Of the tales of the 
Doctour and the Pardoner we can only say that they were clear- 
ly intended to come together, though they are differently placed 
in manUv^^cripts with respect to those which precede and follow- 
The tales of the Shipman, the Prioress, Chaucer's two tales of 
Sir Thopas and Melibeus, the Monk's tale, and the tale of the 
Nun's Priest, are all connected together by their prologues, and 
appear to have occupied another portion of Chaucer's manu- 
script, which also was apparently defective at the end, the pro- 
logue which was to have connected it with the next tale being 
unfinished. The prologue to the tale of tho Manciple contains 
no reference to a preceding tale ; but from the way in which 
the Cook is introduced in it, it would seem to have been com- 
posed at a time when Chaucer did not intend to introduce the 
Cook's tale after that of the Eeve. The Parson's tale is con- 
liected by its prologue wdth that of the Manciple, and follows 
it in all the manuscripts. The old printed editions after 1542, 
inserted between these a poem, which was evidently misplaced, 
:ander the title t)f the Plotc7nan^s Tale, but on what authority it 
was placed there we are totally ignorant. The " retractation " 
at the end of the Parsunes Tale was perhaps introduced by the 
person who arranged the text after Chaucer's death. 

With the tale, or rather discoui"se, of the Parson, Chaucer 
brings his pilgrims to Canterbury ; but his original plan evi- 
dently included the journey back to London. Some writer, 
within a few years after Chaucer's death, undertook to continue 
the work, and produced a ludicrous account of the proceedings 
of the pilgrims at Canterbury, and the story of Brryn, which 
was to be the first of the stories told on their return. These 
are printed l)y Urry from a man\iscript of which T have not been 
able to trace the subsequent history, and, if it should not pre- 
viously be found, I shall reprint them from Urry's edition, 
correcting the more apparent errors, for Urry's faithlessness to 
his niaimscript is quite extraordinary. 

The immense popularity of Chaucer'8 Canterbury Tales is 
proved by th«e number of manuscript copies still remaining. It 
was one of the fii-st books printed in England, and wont through 
a considerable number of editions before the seventeenth cen- 
tury. For the information of those who are interested in the 
biographical portion of a s abject like this, I give Tyrwhitt's 
history of the printed editiona of the Canterbury Tales, omittiog 
BCKne at Uie notes. 



10 INTRODUCTION. 



*' The art of printing had been invented and exercised for 
a considerable time, in most countries of Europe, before the art 
of criticism was called in to superintend and direct its opera- 
tions. It is, therefore, much more to the honor of our 
meritorious countryman, William Caxton, that he chose to 
make the Canterbury Tales one of the earliest productions of 
his press, than it can be to his discredit that he printed them 
very incorrectly. He probably took the first Ms. that he could 
procure to print from, and it happened, unluckily, to be one of 
the worst in all respects that he could possibly have met with. 
The very few copies of this edition which are now remaining* 
have no date, but Mr. Ames supposes it to liave been printed 
in 1475 or 6. 

"It is still more to the honor of Caxton, that when he was 
informed of the imperfections of his edition, iie very readily 
undertook a second, ' for to satisfy the author ' (as he says him- 
self), ' whereas tofore by ignorance he had erred in hurting and 
diffaming his book.' His whole account of this ni itt n-, in the 
preface to the second edition, is so clear and ingenuous, that I 
shall insert it below in his own words.f This edition is also 

* "The late TIr. West was so obliging as to lend me a complete copy of 
this ediiioii, which is now, as I have heard, in the King's Library. There ia 
another complete copy in the library of Mertou College, which is illuminated, 
and has a ruled line under every piinted one, to give it the appearance, I 
suppose, of a Ma. Neither of these books, though seemingly complete, haa 
any preface or advertisement." 

t " Preface to Caxton's second edition from a copy in the Library of St. 
John's College, Oxford. Ames, p. 55.— Whiche book I have dylygently over- 
seu, and duly examyned to the eude that it be made acconlyng unto his ov^en 
makyng ; for 1 fynde many of the sayd bookes, whiche wrylers have 
abrydgyd it, and many thynges left out, and in some places have sette cer- 
tayn versys that he never made ue sette in hys booke, of whyche bookes so 
incurrecle was one broughte to me vi. yere passyd, whiche 1 supposed had ben 
veray true and correete, and accordyng to the same 1 tlyde ilo emprynte a 
certayn nomber of them, whyche anon were solde to many and dyverse gen- 
tylmen, of whom one geniylmau cam to me. and sayd that this book was not 
according in many phices unto the book that Gelferey Chaucer had made. 
To whom I ajiswered, that 1 had made it acct)rdyng to my copye, and by me 
was nothyng added ue mynusshyd. Thenne he sayd, he knewe a book whyche 
hys fader had much lovyd, that was very trewe, and accordyng unto his oweu 
first book by hym made ; and sayd more, yf I wold emprynte it agayn, he 
wold gete me the same book for a copye. How be it he wyst well that hya 
fader wold not gladly departe fro it. To whom I said, bi caas ihat he coude 
gete me suche a booke, trewe and correete, yet 1 would ones endevoyre me to 
emprynte it agayn, for to satisfy the auctoiir, where as tofore by yguoraunce 
I erryd in hurtyng and dylfaiayng his book in dyverce places, in setting in 
Bomme thyngee that he never sayde ne made, and leving out many thynges 
that he ma 1 ^ whyche ben requysite to be sette in it. And thus we fyll at 
accord, and he full gentylly gate cf hys fader the said book, and delyvered 
it to me, li;. whiohe I have corrected my book, as heere after alle alonge by 
the aydo ot almighty God shal folowe, whom I humbly beseche, &c. 

*• Mr. Lewis, in his Life of Caxton, p. 104, has published a nuiiute account 
of the contents of this edition from a copv in the Library ot INIagdaleii Col- 
lege. Cambridge, but without deciding whether it is the first or the second 
emtlon. 

" It Is undoubtedly the second ; but the preface is lost. There is an im 
perfect copy of this edition in the Museum, and another ia the liliraxy of tha 
iKoyal Society. Both together would not make a complete one." 



IS^TRODUCTTON. 11 



without date, except that the preface informs us that it was 
printed six years after the first. 

*' Ames mentions an edition of Chaucer's Cantprhjtry TaleSy 
' Collected by William Caxton, and printed by Wynken de 
Worde at Westmestre, in 1495. Folio.' He does not appear 
tt) have seen it himself, nor have I ever met with any other 
authority for its existence: which, however, I do not mean to 
dispute.' if there was such an edition, we may be tolerably 
sure that it was only a copy of Caxton's. 

" This was certainly the case of both Pynson's editions. He 
has prefixed to both the introductory part of Caxton's Prohemye 
to his second edition, without the least alteration. In what 
follows, he says that he purposes to imprint his book [in the 
first edition] hy a copy of the said Master Caxton and [in the 
second] by a copy of William Caxton s imprinting* That tlie 
copy, mentioned in both these passacfes, by which Pynson ]nir- 
posed to imprint, was really Caxton's second edition, is evident 
fmm the slightest comparison of the three books : Pynson's 
first edition has no date, but is supposed (upon good q-rounds, I 
think) to have l)een printed not long after 1491, the year of 
Caxton's death. His second edition f is dated in 1526, andwas 
the first in which a collection of some other pieces of Chaucer 
was added to the Canterbury Tales. 

" The next edition which I have been able to meet with was 
printed by Thomas Godfray in 1532. If this be not the very 
edition which Leland speaks of as printed by Berthelette, with 
the assistance of Mr. \Villiam Thynne (as I ratiier suspect it 
is), we may be assured that it was copied from that. Mr. 
Thynne's dedication to Henry VIII. stands at the head of it ; 
and the great number of Cliaucer's works never before pub- 
lished which appear in it, fully entitles it to the commendations 
which have always been given to j\lr. Thynne's edition on that 
account. Accordingly it was several times reprinted as the 
standard edition of Chaucer's works, without any material 
alteration, except the insertion of the Plowman's tale in 1542. 

** As my business here is solely with the Canterbury TuleSf 

• *' See the Prohemies to Pynson's flret and second editions In tie pTef,«ice 
to Urry's Chaucer. There is a complete copy of Pyiisou'e tirsL oditiou iii the 
library of the Koyal So<iety." 

1 "J venture to call thie Pynson'B eeoond edition, though Ames (from 
Bome iioten of liagford) speaks of editions in ir)20 ami IbSl. He does not ap- 
jiear to have 6een them himself. Mr. West had a copy of the edition of 15'_*6, 
lu which the name of tlie printer anu tlie date of the impression are regularly 
eet down at the end of the ('(inferlmry Tales. After that follow ' Troiius and 
Crtstide ' and * the Bake of Fame,' at the end of wLich last is a note, copied 
from Caxton's edition of Oie same book, with this addition. And heV' foliow' 
et/i anoltitr of fiis workes. But in Mr. West's <!opy nothing followed. Tho 
v/riler of the preface to Ed. Urr. seems to have Lad the use ot a copy of this 
edition in 1526, which contained some other piocci* oi Chaucer's, and Bever^d 
by other handle, See Uie prctaco to Ed. Urr " 



12 INTRODUCTION. 



I shall take no notice of the several miscellaneous pieces, by 
Chaucer and others, which were added to them by Mr. Thyniie 
in his edition, and afterwards by Stowe and Speght in the edi- 
tions of 1561, 1597, and 1602. With respect to the Canterbury 
Tales, I am under a necessity of observing, that upon the whole 
they received no advantage from tiie edition of 1532. Its ma- 
terial variations from Caxton's second edition are all, I think, 
for the worse. It confounds the order of the Squier's and the 
Frankeleiri's tales, which Caxton, in his second edition, had set 
right. It gives the Frankelein^s prologue to the Merchant^ in 
addition to his own proper prologue. It produces for the first 
time two prologues, the one to the Doctourh, and the other to the 
Shipman's tale, which are both evidently spurious; and it 
brings back the lines of ribaldry in the Merchant's tale, which 
Caxton, in his second edition, had* rejected upon the authority 
of his good Ms. 

*' However, this edition of 1532, with all its imperfections, 
had th« luck, as I have said, to be considered as the standard 
edition, and to be copied, not only by the book-sellers, in their 
several editions* of 1542, 1546, 1555, and 1561, but also by Mr. 
Speght (the first editor in form, after Mr. Thynne, who set his 
lame to his work) in 1597 and 1602. In the dedication to Sir 
ilobert Cecil, prefixed to this last edition, he speaks indeed of 
having ' reformed the whole work, both by old written copies 
and by Ma William Thynnes praiseworthy labours ; * but I can- 
not find tliat he has departed in any material point from those 
editions which I have supposed to be derived from IVIr. 
Thynne's. In the very material points above mentioned, in 
which those editions vary from Caxton's second, he has fol-.^ 
lowed tJiem. Nor have I observed any such verbal varieties aa 
would induce one to believe that he had consulted any good Ms. 
They who have read his preface will probably not regret that 
he did not do more towards correcting the text of Chaucer. 
" In this state the Canterbury Tales remained f till the edi- 

• " There are eome other editions mentioned by Ames, without date ; but 
it ia probable that, upon inspection, they would appear to be one or other of 
tlie editions whose dates are liere given. It eeeras to have been usual to print 
books in partnership, and for eaeli partner to print his own name to his 
Bhare of the impression. See Ames, p. 252. A Bible is said to be printed in 
' 1551, by ^icholus K'll— ' at the cost and charges of certayne honest meune of 
the occupacyon, w se names he upon their bokes' " 

t '* It may be proper just to take notice, that Mr Speght's edition was re- 
printed in 1687, with an advertisement at the end, in which the editor pre- 
tended to publish from a ^Is. the conclusum of the Coke's Tale, ««(/ a/.«o</ 
tlie Squiree Tale, which in the printed books are sitid to be lost or never fin- 
ished by the author. These conoliisione may be i^een in the Preface to Ed. 
Urr. Whoever the editor was, I inust do liim the justice to say, that they are 
both really to be tonnd in j\ls. The lirsi is to be found in Ms. B. a. and the 
other in Ms. B. h. from which Hearne has also printed it, as a choice discov- 
ery, in his letter to Bagford. App. to R. G. p. t>Ol. If I thought the reader 
bad any relibh for such supplements to Chaucer, I cuuld treat him from Ms. 
B. a. wfth at leawt thirty mor.? lines, which have been inserted in difiereut 
Jj^orta of lii© Coo)i^9 Tale, by Uie Bi*me baud that wrote this Conclusion." 



INTRODUCTION. 13 



tion undertaken by Mr. Urry, which was published, some years 
after his death, in 1721. I shall say but little of that edition, 
as a very fair and full account of it is to be seen in the modest 
and sensible preface prefixed to it by Mr. Timothy Thomas, 
upon whom the charge of publishing Chaucer devolved, or 
rather was imposed, after Mr. Urry's death. The strange 
license in which Mr. Urry appears to have indulged himself, of 
lengthening and shortening Chaucer's words according to his 
own fancy, and of even adding words of his own, without 
giving his readers the least notice, has made the text of Chau- 
cer in his edition by far the worst that was ever published. ^^ 

PLAN OP THE PRESENT EDITION. 

During the latter half of the twelfth century and the earlier 
part of the thirteenth, the language spoken by our Saxon fore- 
fathers was rapidly breaking up, and losing its original gram- 
matical inflections, and much of its characteristic phraseology. 
Books or songs written in English during this period were in- 
tended for the edification of the lower classes, or for the hour- 
geoisie, which still retained its Saxon habits. Great changes 
in language are generally coeval with political movements and 
convulsions, and the character of our language was completely 
changed by the baronial wars of the thirteenth century, which 
brought into prominence the Anglo-Saxon portion of the popu- 
lation, and made its language fashionable in high society. The 
consequence was, that it went through further changes of form, 
and became largely mixed with words having a French (or 
Anglo-Norman) origin. About the end of the reign of Edward 
L the English language took a definite shape, which continued 
during the fourteenth century with very little alteration in its 
grammatical forms, and the only alterations in other respects 
arising from words becoming obsolete, and from the facility with 
which French or Anglo-Norman words were adopted or received 
at the will of the author, and according to the class of society 
in which he moved and for which he wrote. This arose from 
the circumstance that English and the form of French spoken 
here were co-existent in our island as the languages of common 
life. This form of the English language was that of the 
author of Piers Ploughman and of Geoffrey Chaucer ; the former 
representing the popular feelings and containing fewest 
French words, while Chaucer, as the poet of the higher society, 
uses French words in much greater abundance. In our lan- 
guage of the present day we have lost as much of the English 
of Piers Ploughman as we have of the French of the Canterbury 
Tales. 

The general character and the grammatical Gonstructioas of 



14 INTRODUCTION. 



the Englisli of the fourteenth century were preserved during 
the opening years of the fifteenth ; but they soon began to 
break up more rapidly even than in the thirteenth century, un- 
til, at the time of the Reformation, our language took nearly 
its modern form, the orthography excepted. 

The language in which any man wrote could only be pre- 
served correctly in manuscripts written in his own time, or very 
near it ; for we find by experience that copyists invariably al- 
tered what they copied to the form of the language at the time 
in which they wrote, and, wliicli is still more embarrassing, to 
the local dialect of the county in which they lived. It is evi- 
dent, therefore, that the plan of forming the text of any work 
of the periods of which we are speaking, from a number of dif- 
ferent manuscripts, written at different times and different 
places, is the most absurd plan which it is possible to conceive. 
Yet this was the method professedly followed by Tyrwhitt, in 
forming a text of the Canterbury Tales of Chaucer. He even did 
M^orse : for he seems to have taken for his foundation merely one 
of the old editions, printed at a time when all the grammatical 
forms were lost, changing words or lines for others which pleased 
him better from any manuscript which happened to contain 
them. It is true that he has given a list of manuscripts, in which 
he points out those which he considers the best, and which he 
followed in preference to others ; but Tyrwhitt was so entirely 
unacquainted with the palseographical and philological knowl- 
edge necessary for the appreciation of them, that he places 
among his manuscripts of " highest authority," copies on paper 
of the latter part of the fifteenth century, while excellent man- 
uscripts of an earlier date are looked upon with indifference. 
The more caution is necessary in this respect with the text of 
Chaucer, because the i-reater number of the manuscripts are of 
the latter part or middle of the fifteenth century, when the lan- 
guage was very much changed from that of Chaucer's time. 

Tyrwhitt's entire ignorance of the grammar of the language 
of Chaucer is exhibited in almost every line, few of which could 
possibly have been written by the poet as he has printed them. 
It need only be stated, as an instance of this, that in the preter- 
ites of what the modern Teutonic philologists term the strong 
verbs (which our common grammarians distinguish by the un- 
fortunate title of {•regular verbs), Tyrwhitt has invariably 
])laced a verb in the plural with a noun in the singular. This 
is explained by the circumstance that, in our modern form of 
the language, the ancient plural of the preterite has been 
adopted for singular as well as plural. Examples of this (in 
the verbs to hear, of which the correct forms were, sing, bar, pi. 
bare ; to come, s. cam. pi. come ; to swear, s. swor, pi. swore ; to 
give, s. gaf, pi. gave ; to speak, s. spak, pi. spake ; to rise, s. ros, 



TNTHODUCTION. 15 



roos, pi. rose ; to tnJce, s. took, pi. toke; &c.) occur almost in 
every sentence. In the verb to sit, of which the pret, s. and pi. 
was sette, Tyrwhitt has substituted set, a form which did not 
exist ; and in the same manner, in the verb to creep, he has 
given pret. s. crept, when the forms were s. creep, crope, pi. 
crope. In the same manner, Tyrwhitt has in most instances 
substituted the plural of adjectives for the singular, and the in- 
flected cases of nouns for the nominative, besides an infinity of 
errors in the orthographical forms of the language. 

Under these circumstances it is clear that, to form a satis- 
factory text of Chaucer, we must give up the printed editions, 
and fall back upon the manuscripts ; and that, instead of bun- 
dling them all together, we must pick out one best manuscript 
which also is one of those nearest to Chaucer's time. The latter 
circumstance is absolutely necessary, if we would reproduce the 
language and versification of the author. At the same time, it 
cannot but be acknowledged, that the earliest manuscript might 
possibly be very incorrect and incomplete, from the ignorance 
or negligence of the scribe who copied it. This, however, is 
fortunately not the case with regard to Chaucer's Canterbury 
Tales. 

The Harleian manuscript, No. 7334, is by far the best manu- 
script of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales that I have yet examined, 
in regard both to antiquity and correctness. The handwriting 
is one which would at first sight be taken by an experienced 
schular for that of the latter part of the fourteenth century, and 
it must have been written within a few years after 1400, and 
therefore soon after Chaucer's death and the publication of the 
Canterbury Tales. Its language has very little, if any, appear- 
ance of local dialect ; and the text is in general extremely good, 
the variations from Tyrwhitt being usually for the better. 
Tyrwhitt appears not to have made much use of this manu- 
script, and he has not even classed it among those to which 
most credit is due. 

This manuscript I have adopted as the text of the present 
edition ; the alterations I have ventured to make in it being 
comparatively few, and only such as appeared absolutely neces- 
sary. I hardly need inform those who are in the habit of con- 
sulting medieval manuscripts, in whatever language they may 
be written, that none of them are clerically accurate. Some of 
them are literally filled with errors, which it requires very little 
knowledge to perceive and correct. Many errors of this kind 
are found in the Harleian manuscript of the Canterbury Tales 
of which I am speaking, and I have not felt the least hesita- 
tion in correcting them by comparison with another manu- 
bcript. As an example of the kind of error to which I allud© 
it inuy be stated that 11. 3779, 3780 stand thus in the Ms. ;— 



16 . INTRODUCTION. 



** Of storial thing that toucheth gentilesse. 
And eek more ryaM, and holynesse." 

I have without hesitation followed another Ms. in correcting 
the two words in italics to moraliU; and in cases like this I 
have not thought it necessary to load the book with notes point- 
ing out the alterations. In other instances, where a reading in 
the llarl. Ms., although affording a tolerable meaning, has ap- 
peared to me a decided bad one, I have changed it for a better, 
always (when there is room for the least doubt) giving the orig- 
inal reading of the manuscript in a foot-note. For this pur- 
pose, 1 have collated the text throughout with the Lansdowne 
Ms. No. 851, which appears to be, of those in the British Mu- 
seum, next in antiquity and value to the Ms. Harl. ; and I have 
also collated it, as far as the Wyf of Bathes Tale, with two 
manuscripts in the public library of the University of Cam- 
bridge, bearing the shelf-marks Mm. 2. 5. (which I have quoted 
as C. 1), and li. 3, 26 (C. 2) ; but I found so little real use from 
thfse latter manuscripts, that I have thought it unnecessary to 
collate them further. In general, 1 have reaped little advan- 
tage from collating a number of manuscripts. 

Tyrwhitts want of philological knowledge has rendered his 
text unharmonious as well as ungrammatical. The final e, 
most distinctly pronounced, and which was most necessary to 
the metrical completeness of the line, was the one which marked 
grammatical inflections and adverbial forms ; and this he has 
constantly dropped, and he has therefore printed an imperfect 
line, or given it supposed perfection by adding a word or plac- 
ing a final e to a word which ought; not to have it. I may ob- 
serve, that it was a constant rule to elide the final e in pronun- 
ciation, when it preceded a word beginning with a vowel or 
with the letter h, and that this was the source of frequent errors 
of the scribes, who, pronouncing the lines as they copied them, 
omitted sometimes to write the- letter which they did not pro- 
nounce, and thus made a grammatical error, which, however, 
every reader at the time could see and correct. Instances of this 
kind of error are not of unfrequent occurrence in the Harl. Ms. of 
the Canterbury Tales ; bub I have resisted the temptation to cor- 
rect them, because it appeared to me dangerous, in our present 
knowledge of medieval English, to presume too far on our ac- 
quaintance with every nicety of the grammar of the fourteenth 
century. In many cases, however, these are certainly errors. 
Thus, in 1. 5011 :— 

"" Have thou ynough, what thar the recch or care." 

We ought to read recche, which is the infinitive of the verb. 
For the same reason, in 1. G12S. - 

« A.ud tor to walk In Mttrch, Avoril, and MoV *' 



INTRODUCTION, 17 



we should read walke. In both these instances the final e has 
been lost before a word beginning with a vowel. The older 
termination of the infinitive was in en, but the n was subse- 
quently dropped, and during the fourteenth century, and earlier 
part of the fifteenth, the two terminations of the infinitive in 
en and e were used indiscriminately, at the will or caprice of 
the writer, in poetry before a word beginning with a conso- 
nant, it was immaterial which form was used, but before a 
word beginning with a vowel, or with h, the n might be dropt 
or retained accordingly as the final syllable of the word was re- 
quired or not for the metre. In these cases the scribe has not 
unfrequently omitted the n when it ought to have been retained ; 
but probably the thing was so well understood, that it mat- 
tered little how it was written, the reader using the n or not 
as the verse required it, whether he saw it in the manuscript or 
not. 

With the exception of the cases above mentioned, I have 
reproduced the text of the Harleian Ms. with literal accuracy. 
My object has been to give Chaucer, as far as can be done, in his 
own language, which certainly has not yet been done in print 
I doubt much if the different attempts at half or wholly mod- 
ernizmg his language, which have been made in latter years, 
will ever render him popular ; and his poetry is entirely lost in 
translations. Surely, when we remember the oft-repeated say- 
ing, that the trouble of learning Spanish is well repaid by the 
simple pleasure of reading Don Quixote in the original, we may 
well be allowed to wonder that any Englishman of taste should 
refuse the comparatively triflmg labor of making himself ac- 
quainted with his own language of little more than four cen- 
tuiies ago, for the satisfaction of reading and understanding 
the }»oetry of his glorious countryman Geoffrey Chaucer. 
Changing and mutilating is not, in my opinion, the right way 
to make anything popular , and in the present work my object 
IS not the mere production of a correct (or, at least, as correct 
as under all the circumstances can be expected) edition of 
the father of our poetry; I would try the experiment of 
making his writings popular by the very fact of their being 
correctly printed, and by the addition of popular (and not 
scholastic) notes — notes, the aim of which is to explain and 
illustrate, in a simple and unpretending manner, allusions and 
expressions which may not be generally Known to those who ave 
not in the habit of studying the documents and thn antiquifciea 
of Chaucer's age. For this purpose, I avail myself of every- 
thing within my reach. Although I have felt it necessary to 
speak unreservedly of the defects in Tyrwhitt's text — for which 
we must of course make some allowance in consideration of tho 
tow state of philological science, as far as it regarded the mid- 
Si. 



18 INTRODUCTION. 



die ages, in his time — yet it must be confessed to his credit 
that he entered upon his labors, in editing Chaucer, with zeal, 
and executed them with no small share of industry and re- 
search. His notes on the Canterbury Tales contain much that 
is useful and valuable, and this I have unscrupulously trans- 
f erred to my own edition, either in his owix words or in an 
abridged form. 



THE CANTERBURY TALEa 



THE PROLOGUE. 

Whan that Aprille with his schowres swoote l 

The drought of Marche hath perced to the roote. 

And bathud every veyne in swich licour, 

Of which vertue engendred is the flour ; — 

Whan Zephirus eek with his swete hreeth 

Enspirud hath in every holte and heeth 6 

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne 

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours i-ronne, 

And smale fowles maken melodie, 

That slepen al the night with open yhe. 

So priketh hem nature in here corages : — 

Thanne longen folk to gon on pilgrimages, 

And palmers for to seeken straunge strondes, 

To feme halwes, kouthe in sondry londes ; 14 

And specially, from every schires ende 

Of Engelond, to Can tur bury they wende, 

The holy blisful martir for to seeke, 

That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke. 

Byfel that, in that sesoun on a day, 
In Southwerk at the Tabbard as I lay, 
Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage 
To Canturbury with ful devout corage, 22 

At night was come into that hostelrie ^ 

Wei nyne and twenty in a companye. 
Of sondry folk, by aventure i-falle 

8. the Ram. Tyrwhitt thinks that Chaucer has made a mistake, smd thus 
it ought to be the Bull, because, the showers of April having pierced the 
drouth of March to the root, the sun must have passed through the sign of 
the Kam and entered that of the Bull. 

14. /ei-ne. Nearly all the mss. I have examined, and certainly the best, 
agree in this reading. Tyrwhitt has adopted the reading serve, which prob- 
ably <>ri;iiiiHted in mistaking •' feme " for " ferue,"— /ente halwea means dw- 
tani saints. 



20 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

In felaschipe, and pilgryms were thei alle, 

That toward Canturbury wolden ryde. 

The chambres and the stables weren wyde, 

And wel we weren esud atte beste. 29 

And schortly, whan the sonne was to reste, 

So hadde I spoken with hem everychon, 

That I was of here felawschipe anon, 

And made forward erly to aryse, 

To take oure weye ther as I yow devyse. 

But natheles, whiles I have tyme and space. 

Or that I ferthere in this tale pace, 

Me thinketh it accordant to resoun, 

To telle yow alle the condicioun 89 

Of eche of hem, so as it semed me. 

And which they weren, and of what degre ; 

And eek in what array that they were inne : 

And at a knight than wol I first bygynne. 

A Knight ther was, and that a worthy man. 
That from the tyme that he ferst bigan 
To ryden out, he lovede chyvalrye, 
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curtesie. 4G 

Ful worthi was he in his lordes werre, 
And thereto hadde he riden, noman ferre, 
As wel in Cristendom as in hethenesse, 
And evere honoured for his worthinesse. 
At Alisandre he was whan it was wonne. 
Ful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bygonne 62 

Aboven alle naciouns in Pruce. 
In Lettowe hadde reyced and in Ruce, 
No cristen man so ofte of his degre. 
In Gernade atte siege hadde he be 
Of Algesir, and riden in Belmarie. 
At Lieys was he, and at Satalie, 

43. A knight It was a common thing, in this age, for knights to seek em 
ployment in foreign countries which were at war. Tyrwhitt cites from Lelaiid 
the epitaph of a knight of this period, Matthew de Gournay, who " en sa vie 
fu a La bataille de Benamarin, et ala apris d la siege d'Algezire sii^r les Sara- 
zines. et aussi d les battailles de UEscluse, de Cressy, de Deyngenesse, de Fey- 
teres'y de Nazare, d'Ozrey, et dpulsours autres battailles et asseges." 

51. Alisandre. Alexandria, in Egypt, was taken by Pierre de Lusignan, 
king of Cyprus, in 1365, but immediately afterwards abandoned. 

53. Pruce. The knights of the Teutonic order in Prussia were engaged in 
continual warfare with their Pagan neighbors in Lithuania (Lettowe), Rus- 
sia, &c. . , , . ^ 

66. Gernade. The city of Algezir was taken from the Moorish kang of 
Grenada in 1344. Belmane appears to have been one of the Moorish States 
in Africa. Layas (Lieys), in Armenia, was taken from the Turks by Pierre 
de Lusignan, about 1367. Satalie was taken by the same prince soon after 
1352. Tremessen was one of the Moorish States in Africa. Palathia, in An- 
atolia, was one of the lordshipe held by Christian knights after the Turkish 
conquests. 



THE PROLOGUE. 21 



Whan they were wonne ; and in the Greete see 

At many a noble arive hadde he be. 

At mortal batailles hadde he ben fiftene, 61 

And foughten for our feitli at Tramassene 

In lystes thries, and ay slayn his foo. 

This ilke vvorthi knight hadde ben also 

Somtvme with the lord of Palatye, 

Ageyn another hetherie in Turkye : 

And everemore he hadde a sovereyn prys. 

And though that he was worthy he was wys, 68 

And of his port as meke as is a mayde. 

He never yit no vilonye ne sayde 

In al his lyf, unto no maner wight. 

He was a verray perfight gentil knight. 

But for to telle you of his aray, 

His hors was good, but he ne was nought gay. 

Of fustyan he wered a gepoun 75 

Al bysmoterud with his haburgeoun, 

For he was late comen from his viage, 

And wente for to doon his pilgrimage. 

With him ther was his sone, a yong Squyeb, 
A lovyer, and a lusty bacheler, 
With lokkes crulle as they were layde in presse 
Of twenty yeer he was of age I gesse. 
Of his stature he Avas of evene lengthe, 83 

And wondurly delyver, and gret of strengthe. 
And he hadde ben somtyme in chivachie, 
In Flaundres, in Artoys, and in Picardie, 
And born him wel, as in so litel space, 
In hope to stonden in his lady grace. 
Embrowdid was he, as it were a mede 
Al ful of fresshe floures, white and reede. 
Syngynge he was, or fiowtynge, al the day ; 91 

He w^as as fressh as is the moneth of May. 
Schort was his goune, Avith sleeves long and wyde. 
Wel cowde he sitte on hors, and faire ryde. 
He cowde songes wel make and endite, 
Justne and eek daunce, and wel purtray and write 
So hote he lovede, that by nightertale 
He sleep nomore than doth a nightyngale. 
Curteys he was, lowly, and servysable, 99 

85. chivachie. Every reader of tlie contemporary histories of Edward 
III. '8 ware in France knows the pride which the kuighis touk iu shewing 
their courage in the continual chevachies, or litllo excursions, into the 
enemy's country. 

IM. /aire. I have substituted this reading from other mss., iu place of wel 
cowde he, given by the Harl. Ms., which appears to be a mere blundering 
repetition. 



22 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And carf bj^forn his fadur at the table. 

A Yeman had he, and servantes nomoo 
At that tyme, for him lust ryde soo ; 
And he was clad in coote and hood of greiito. 
A shef of pocok arwes bright and kene 
Under his belte he bar full thriftily. 
Wei cowde he dresse his takel yomanly ; 
His arwes drowpud nought with fetheres lowe. 
And in his bond he bar a mighty bowe. 108 

A not-heed hadde he, with a broun visage. 
Of woode-craft cowde he wel al the usage. 
Upon his arme he bar a gray bracer, 
And by his side a swerd and a bokeler, 
And on that other side a gay daggere, 
Harneysed wel, and scharp as poynt of spere ; 
A Gristofre on his brest of silver schene. 
An horn he bar, the bawdrik was of grene ; 116 

A forster was he sothely, as I gesse. 

Ther was also a Nonne, a Prioresse, 
That of hire smylyng was ful symple and coy j 
Hire grettest ooth nas but by seynt Loy ; 
And sche wasclept madame Englentyne. 
Ful wel sche sang the servise devyne, 123 

Entuned in hire nose ful semyly ; 
And Frensch sche spak ful faire and fetysly, 
Aftur the scole of Stratford atte Bowe, 
For Frensch of Parys was to hire unknowe. 
At mete wel i-taught was sche withalle ; 
Sche leet no morsel from hire lippes falle, 
Ne wette hire fyngres in hire sauce aeepe. 

104. pocok ances. Arrows fledged with peacock's feathers. They appear 
to have been larger than the common arrows. In a compotus of the Bishop 
of Winchester, in 1471 (cited by Warton, Hist. E. P. ii. p. 211), we have one 
head. — " Sagittoi maynce. Et de cxliv. sag'Utis magnis barbatis cum pennis 
pavonum." 

115. A Cristofre. A figure of St. Christopher used as y brooch. On the use 
of these brooches, or signs, see an interesting paper, by Mr. C. Roach Smith, 
in the Journal of the British Archajological Association, vol, 1. p. 200. The 
figure of St. Christopher was looked upon with particular reverence among the 
middle and lower classes ; and was supposed to possess the power of shielding 
the person who looked on it from hidden dangers. 

120. St. Loy. Probably a corruption of St. Eloy, or St. Eligius. It is the 
reading of all the mss. ; and Tyrwhitt ought not to have changed it. The 
eame oath occurs in the Freres Tale, 1. 7143. 

124. Frensch. The French taught in England was the debased form of the 
old Anglo-Norman, somewhat similar to that used at a later period in the 
courts of law ; and it was this at which Chaucer, and some of his contempo- 
raries, sneered. The writer of the Visions of Pierre Ploughman speaks of 
French of Norfolk, 1. 2949. 

127. At mete. These remarks agree, almost literally, with the directions 
contained in the different medieval tracts written for the purpose oi teaching 
Ci&nner£ at table. 



THE PROLOaUE. 23 



Wei cowde sche carie a morsel, and wel koepo 18U 

That no drope lil uppon hire brest. 
In curtesie was sett al hire lest. 
Hire overlippe wypud sche so clene, 
That in hire cuppe was no ferthing seno 
Of grees, whan sche dronken hadde hire draught. 
Ful semely aftur hire mete sche raught. 
And sikurly sche was of gret disport, 
And ful plesant, and amyable of port, 188 

And peyned hire to counterfete cheere 
Of court, and ben estatlich of manere, 
And to ben holden digne of reverence. 
But for to speken of hire conscience, 
Sche was so charitable and so pitous, 
Sche wolde weepe if that sche sawe a mous 144 

Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde. 
Of smale houndes hadde sche, that sche fedde 
With rostud fleissh and niylk and wastel breed. 
But sore wepte sche if oon of hem were deed. 
Or if men smot it with a yerde smerte : 
And al was conscience and tendre herte. 
Ful semely hire wymple i-pynched was ; 
Hire nose streight ; hire eyen grey as glas ; 153 

Hire mouth ful smal, and therto softe and reed ; 
But sikurly sche hadde a fair forheed. 
It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe ; 
For hardily sche was not undurgrowe. 
Ful fetys was hire cloke, as I was waar. 
Of smal coral aboute hire arme sche baar 
A peire of bedes gaudid al with grene ; 
And theron heng a broch of gold ful schene, IGO 

On which was first i-writen a crowned A, 
And after that, Amor vincit omnia. 
Anothur Nonne also with hire hadde sche, 
That was hire chapelleyn, and Prestes thre. 
A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrie, 

149. men smot. The word men, used in this phrase, appears here construed 
with a singular verb, as though it might had been man (on frappa). So 
a^ain, below, 1. 1G9, vten might. So in a poem in my Political Songs, p. 330. 
•'Where shal men nu finde." 

152. eyen grey This appears to have been the favorite color of ladies' 
e-jidB in the time of Chaucer. The young girl, in the Keves Tale, is described— 

With camoys nose, and eyghen gray as glas. 

160, a broch. In 1845 a brooch, of th^ form of an A, was found in a field 
in Dorsetshire. It appeared to be of the fourteenth century, and allords a 
curiou.s illustration of this passage of Chaucer, The inscription on one siae 
soemt. to be,— 

10 FAS AMEB B DOZ DE AMEB. 



24 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



An out-rydere, that loved venerye ; '' 

A manly man, tc ben an abbot able. 

Full many a deynte hors hadde he in stable : 

And whan he rood, men might his bridel heere 

Gyngle in a whistlyng wynd so cleere, 170 

And eek as lowde as doth the chapel belle, 

Ther as the lord was keper of the selle 

The reale of seynt Maure or of seint Beneyt, 

Bycause that it was old and somdel streyt, 

This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace, 175 

And helde aftur the newe world the space. 

He gaf nat of that text a pulled hen, 

That seitii, that hunters been noon holy men ; 

Ne that a monk, whan he is cloysterles, 

Is likned to a fissche that is watirles ; 

This is to sayn, a monk out of his cloystre. 

But thilke text hild he not worth an oystre. 

And I seide his opinioun was good. 

What schulde he studie, and make himselven wood, 

Uppon a book in cloystre alway to powre, 185 

Or swynke with his handes, and laboure, 

As Austyn byt ? How schal the world be served ? 

Lat Austyn have his swynk to him reserved. 

Therfore he was a pricasour aright ; 

Grreyhoundes he hadde as swifte as fowel in flight ; 

166. loved venerye. The monks of the middle ages were extremely attached 
to hunting and field sports ; and this was a frequent subject of complaint 
with the more austere ecclesiastics, and of satire with the laity. 

170. ijynyle. It was a univer^^al practice among riders who wished to be 
thought fashionable, to have iheir horses' bridles hung with bells. The Tem- 
plars were blamed for this vanity in the thirteenth century. In the roman« e 
of Richard Cceur de Lion, the Sultau of Damas has a trusty mare, of which 
we are told, 

Hys crouper heeng al ful of belles, 

And his peytrel, and his arsoun, 

Three myle myghte men hear the sown. 
Wycliflfe, in his Triloge, inveighs against the priests of his time for their 
•' fair hors, and joly and gay sadeles, and bridles ringing by the way." At a 
much later period, Spencer describes a lady's steed,— 

Her wanton palfrey all was overspread 
With tinsel trappings, woven like a wave, 
"Whose bridle rung with golden bells and bosses brave. 

173. jjie reule. The rules of St. Maure and St. Benet were the oldest 
forms of monastic discipline in the Romish church. 

174. olde thinges. This is the reading of most of the MSS., and I have 
adopted it instead of that of the Ms. Harl., forby hem, which appears to give 
no clear sense. 

179. cloysterles. This is also the reading of a Cambridge MS. The passage 
is a literal translation of one from the Decretal of Gratian, as cited by Tyr- 
whitt,— " Sicut piscls nine aqua c(tret vita, ita sine mo^iast erio monachus." 
Tli« otbp.r readings, rekkeles, rechehs, <fec., found in most of the mr.s., present 
roriRiderable difficulties j and Tyrwhitt's explanation seems liardly sdmiar 
Bible. 



THE PROLOGUE. 25 



Of i)rikyng and of huntyng for the hare 

Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare. 192 

I saugh his sieves purfiled atte hond 

With grys, and that the fynest of a lond. 

And for to festne his hood undur his chyn 

He haddo of g«ld y-wrought a curious pyn : 

A love-knot te in the gretter ende ther was. 

His heed was ballid, and schon as eny glas, 

And eek his face as he hadde be anoynt. 

He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt ; 200 

His eyen steep, and rollyng in his heed, 

That stemed as a forneys of a leed ; 

His bootes souple, his hors in gret estat. 

Now certeinly he was a fair prelat ; 

He was not pale as a. for-pyned goost. 

A fat swan loved he best of eny roost. 

His palfray was as broun as eny berye. 

A Frere ther was, a wantoun and a merye, 
A lymytour, a ful solempne man. 209 

In alle the ordres foure is noon that can 
So nioche of daliaunce and fair langage. 
He hadde i-iiiade many a fair mariage 
Of yonge wymmen, at his owne cost. 
Unto his ordre he was a noble post. 
Ful wel biloved and famulier was he 
With frankeleyns over al in his cuntre, 
And eek with worthi wommen of the toun : 217 

For he hadde power of confessioun, 
As seyde himself, more than a curat, 
For of his ordre he was licenciat. 
Ful sw^eetly herde he confessioun, 
And plesaunt was his absolucioun ; 
He was an esy man to geve penance 
Ther as he wiste to han a good pitance 5 
For unto a povre ordre for to geve 225 

Is signe that a man is wel i-schreve. 
For if he gaf, he dorste make avauut, 
He wiste that a man was repentaunt. 
For many a man so hard is of his herte, 
He may not wepe though him sore smerte. 
Therfore in stede of wepyng and prayeres, 
Men mooten given silver to the pore freres. 
His typet was ay farsud ful of knyfes 

203. souple. " This is part of the description of a smart abbot, by an an- 
onyiuouB writer of the thirteenth century.— ' Ocreas habebatincruribusyqu-xs'* 
%nnatc3 ae^erU, «i;i«5 plica porrectas.'—M.a. Bodl., James, n. 6, p. 121."— 2^^*- 
wfntu 



TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And pynnes, for to give faire wyfes. 234 

^nd certayn he hadde a mery noote. 
Wei couthe he synge and pleye on a rote. 
Of yeddynges he bar utturly the prys. 
His nekke whit was as the flour-de-lys. 
Therto he strong was as a champioun. 
He knew wel the tavernes in every toun. 
And every ostiller or gay tapstere, 

Bet than a lazer, or a beggere, 243 

For unto such a wortbi man as he 
Acorded not, as by his faculte, 
To have with sike lazars aqueyntaunce. 
It is not honest, it may not avaunce, 
For to delen with such poraile, 
But al with riche and sellers of vitaille. 
And over al, ther eny profyt schulde arise, 
Curteys he was, and lowe of servyse. 
Ther was no man nowher so vertuous. 
He was the beste begger in al his hous, 
For though a widewe hadde but oo schoo, 
So plesaunt was his In principio, 
Yet wolde he have a ferthing or he wente. 
His purchace was bettur than his rente. 
And rage he couthe and pleye as a whelpe, 
In love-dayes ther couthe he mochil helpe. 
For ther was he not like a cloysterer, 261 

With a thredbare cope, as a pore scoler, 
But he was like a maister or a pope. 
Of double worstede was his semy-cope, 
That rounded was as a belle out of presse. 
Somwhat he lipsede, for wantounesse, 
To make his Englissch swete upon his tunge ; 
And in his harpyng, whan that he hadde sunge, 
His eyghen twynkeled in his heed aright, 269 

As don the sterres in the frosty night. 
This worthi lymytour was called Huberd. 
A Marchaunt was ther with a forked herd, 

237. yeddynges. Ms. C. 2, reads weddinges. 

262. After this line, the two following are added in Tyrwhitt : — 

And gave a certaine ferme for the grant, 
Non of his bretheren came in his haunt. 

They are wanting in all the Mss. I have consulted ; a circumstance of which 
Tyrwhitt takes no notice, though they are an evident interpolation. He seema 
to have taken them from the old printed editions, 

258. purchase. This sentiment, or proverb, is taken literally from a line 
in the liomauce of the Rose :— 

Mieus vault mon poorclias que ma rente. 



THE PnOLOGUE. 



In motteleye, and high on horse he sat, 273 

Uppon his heed a Flaundrisch bever hat ; 

His botus clapsud faire and fetously. 

His resons he spak ful soleinpnely, 

Rownynge alway the encres of his wynnyng. 

He wolde the see were kepud for eny thinge 

Betwixe Middulburgh and Orewelle. 

Wei couthe he in eschange scheeldes selle. 

Tiiis wortlii man ful wel his witte bisette ; 281 

Ther wiste no man that he was in dette, 

So estately was he of governaunce, 

With his bargayns, and with his chevysaunce. 

For sothe he was a worthi man withalle, 

But soth to say, I not what men him calle. 

A Clerk ther was of Oxenford also, 
That unto logik hadde longe i-go. 

Al so lene was his hors as is a rake, 289 

And he was not right fat, I undertake ; 
But lokede holwe, and therto soburly. 
Ful thredbare was his overest courtepy, 
For he hadde nought geten him yit a benefice, 
Ne was not worthy to haven an office. 
For him was lever have at his beddes heed 
Twenty bookes, clothd in bleak and reed, 
Of Aristotil, and of hisphilosophie, 297 

Then robus riche, or fithul, or sawtrie. 
But al though he were a philosophre. 
Yet hadde he but litul gold in cofre ; 
But al that he might of his frendes hente, 
On bookes and his lernyng he it spente, 302 

And busily gan for the soules pray 
Of hem that gaf him wher-^vith to scolay. 
Of studie tooke he most cure and heede. 
Not oo word spak he more than was neede , 
Al that he spak it was of heye prudence, 
And schort and quyk, and ful of gret sentence 
Sownynge in moral manere was his speche, 
And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche. 31(? 

278. forked herd, m Shottesbrooke church, Berks, there is a brass of a 
Franklin of the time of Edward 111., in which he is represented with Kuch a 
forked beard, which seems to have been the fashionable mode of dressing 
the beard among the bourgeoisie. The Anglo-Saxons wore forked beards. 

301. might ofhis/rendes hente. This is the reading of most of the MSS., 
and appears to be the right one. The Ms. Harl. reaiis, might gete and his 
frendes sende. 

304, gaf him. An allusion to the common practioo, at this period, of poor 
scholars in the Universities, who wandered about the country, begging, to 
raise money to support them in their studios. See Piers Ploughman, 1. 4625, 
and note. 



28 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

^ . , I — 

A Sergeant of La we, war and wys, 
That often hadde ben atte parvys, 
Ther was also, ful riche of excellence. 
Diiscret he was, and of gret reverence : 
He semed such, his wordes were so wise. 
Justice he was ful often in assise, 
By patent, and by pleyn conimissioun ; 
For his science, and for his heih renoun, 319 

Of fees and robes had he many oon. 
So gret a purchasour was ther nowher noon. 
Al was fee symple to him in efifecte, 
His purchasyng might nought ben to him suspecte. 
Nowher so besy a man as he ther nas, SSJJ 

And yit he semed besier than he was. 
In termes hadde caas and domes alle, 
That fro the tyme of kyng Will were falle. 
Therto he couthe endite, and make a thing, 
Ther couthe no man pynche at his writyng. 
And every statute couthe he pleyn by roote. 
He rood but hoomly in a medled coote. 
Gird with a seynt of silk, with barres smale ; S31 

Of his array telle I no lenger tale. 

A Frankeleyn thor was in his companye ; 
Whit was his berde, as the dayesye. 
Of his complexioun he was sangwyn. 
Wei loved he in the morn a sop of wyn. 
To lyve in delite was al his wone, 
For he was Epicurius owne sone, 

That heeld opynyoun that pleyn delyt 839 

Was verraily felicite perfyt. 
An househaldere, and that a gret, was he ; 
Seynt Julian he was in his countre. 
His breed, his ale, was alway after oon ; 
A bettre envyned man was nowher noon, 
Withoute bake mete was never his hous, 
Of fleissch and fissch, and that so plentyvous, j 
It snewed in his hous of mete and drynk, ^ 
Of alle deyntees that men cowde thynke. 
Aftur the sondry sesouns of they eer, ' 

He chaunged hem at mete and at soper, 350 

Ful many a fat partrich had he in mewe, 

812. parvys. This ie generally explained as a portico before a church. 
The parvis at London, eupposed to be that of St. Paul's, was anciently fre- 
quented by eergeant8-at-law, as we learn from ForteBcue. de Laud. leg. Angl. 
C 51— " I 'ost meridiem, curioB non tenentur ; sed placitantts tunc se dioertunt 
ad pervisum et alibi, consulentes cum servientibus ad legem et al'tia co-Hsiluirna 
SUis." See also Wartou'a Hist, of Eng. Poetry, edit, of IttiO, voio u. p. 212. 

842- St. Julian was the patron of Lospitali^. 



THE PROLOGUE. 29 



And many a brem and many a luce in stewe. 

Woo was his cook, but if his sauce were 

Poynant and scharp, and redy al his gere. 

His table dormant in his halle alway 

Stood redy covered al the longe day. 

At «3PSir^-»iiW ther was he lord and sire. 

Ful o^te tyme he was knight of the schire. 

An aulas and a gipser al of silk 

Heng at his gerdul, whit as morne mylk. 360 

A schirreve hadde he ben, and a counter ; 

Was nowlier such a worthi vavaser. 

An Haburdassher and a Carpenter, 
A Webbe, a Deyer, and a Tapicer, 
Weren with us eeke, clothed in oo lyvere, 
Of a solempne and gret fraternite. 
Ful freissh and newe here gere piked was ; 
Here knyfes w^ere i-chapud nat with bras, 
But al with silver wrought ful clene and wel, 
Here gurdles and here pouches every del. 370 

Wel semed eche of hem a fair burgeys, 
To sitten in a geldehalle on thedeys. 
Every man for the wisdom that he can, 
Was schaply for tu ben an aldurman. 
For catel hadde they inougli and rente, 
And eek here wyfes wolde it wel assente ; 
And elles certeyn hadde thei ben to blame. 
It is right fair for to be clept madame, 
And for to go to vigilies al byfore, 
And han a mantel rially i-bore. 380 

A Cook thei hadde with hem for the nones. 
To boyle chiknes and the mary bones, 
And poudre marchant, tart, and galyngale. 
Wel cowde he knowe a draught of Londone ale. 
He cowde roste, sethe, broille, and frie, 
Make mortreux, and w^el bake a pye. 
But gret harm w^as it, as it semede me, 
That on his schyne a mormal hadde he ; 
For blankmanger he made with the beste. 389 

A ScHiPMAN w^as ther, wonyng fer by west 
For ought I w^oot, he was of Dertemouthe. 
He rood upon a rouncy, as he couthe, 
In a gowne of faldyng to the kne. 

352. in stewe ; i. e. in a fisli-pond. The great consumption of fisb umiei 
the Komish regime rendered a lish-pond a necessary accessory to every gen- 
tlemau's bouse. 

355. table dormant. Probably tbe fixed table at the end of the hall. 

334. Londone ale. Tyrwhitt has cited a passage of an old writer, whicli 
stews that London ale was prized above that of other parts of tbe eouutiy. 



80 THE CANTERBURY- TALES. 



A dsigger hansrvnp: on a laas hadde he 
Aboute his nekk(^ under his arm adoun. 
The hoote soraer had maad his hew al broun ; 
And certeinly he was a good felawe. 
Ful many a draught of wyn had he drawe 
From Burdeux-ward, whil that the chapman sleep. 
Of nyce conscience took he no keep. 400 

If that he foughte, and hadde the heigher hand, 
By water he sente hem hoom to every land. 
But of his craft to rikne wel the tydes, 
His stremes and his dangers him bisides, 
His herbergh and his mone, his lodemenage, 
Ther was non such from Hulle to Cartage. 
Hardy he was, and wys to undertake ; 
With many a tempest hadde his herd ben sohake. 
He knew wel alle the havenes, as thei were, 
From Scotlond to the cape of Fynestere, 410 

And every cryk in Bretayne and in Spayne ; 
His barge y-clepud w^as the Magdelayne. 
Ther was also a Doctour of Phisik, 
In al this world ne was ther non him lyk 
To speke of phisik and of surgerye ; 
For he was groundud in astronomye. 
He kepte his pacient a ful gret del 
In houres by his magik naturel, 
Wel cowde he fortune the ascendent 
Of his ymages for his pacient. 420 

He knew the cause of every maladye. 
Were it of cold, or hete, or moyst, or drye, 
And where thei engendrid, and of what humour ; 
He was a verrey parjQght practisour. 
The cause i-knowe, and of his harm the roote, 
Anon he gaf the syke man his boote. 
Ful redy hadde he his apotecaries, 
To sende him dragges, and his letuaries, 
For eche of hem made othur for to wynne ; 
Her friendschipe nas not newe to begynne. 430 

Wel knew he the olde Esculapius, 

son. thehoofes omer. Perhaps this is a reference to the summer of the year 
7o51. which was long remembered :).8 the dry and hot summer. Other allu- 
Bious in this general prologue seem to shew that Chaucer intended to lay the 
slot of his Canterbury pilgrimage soon after this date. 

410. Scotlond. Most of the Mss. have Gotlaiid, the reading adopted by Tyr- 
Vhitt, and possibly the correct one. 

416. Astronomye. A great portion of the medical science of the middle agea 
depended on astrological and other superstitious observances. 

417. a ful gret del. This is the reading of most of the mss. ; the Ms. Harl. 
ias wondurly trel. , , . , ,. , 

4ai. Wel knew he. The authors mentioned here were the chief medical 



THE PROLOGUE. 81 



And Deiscorides, and eeke Rufus ; 

Old Ypocras, Haly, and Galien ; 

Serapyon, Razis, and Avycen ; 

Averrois, Damascen, and Constantyn } 

Bernard, and Gatisden, and Gilbertyn. 

Of his diete mesurable was he, 

For it was of no superfluite, 

But of gret norisching and digestible. 

His studie was but litel on the Bible. 440 

In sangwin and in pers he clad was al, 

Lyned with taffata and with sendal. 

And yit he was but esy in dispence ; 

He kepte that he wan in pestilence. 

For gold in phisik is a cordial ; 

Therfore he lovede gold in special. 

A good WiF was ther of b\^side Bathe, 
But sche was somdel deef, and that was skathe. 
Of clpth-makyng sche hadde such an haunt, 
Sche passed hem of Ypris and of Gaunt. 450 

In al the parisshe wyf ne was ther noon 
That to the offryng byforn hire schulde goon, 
And if ther dide, certeyn so wroth was sche. 
That sche was thanne out of alle charite. 
Hire keyerchefs weren ful fyne of grounde ; 
I durste swere they weyghede ten pounde 
That on the Sonday were upon hire heed. 

text-books of the middle ages. Kufus was a Greek physician of Ephesus. of 
the age of Trajan ; Haly, Serapion, and Avicen, were Arabian physicians and 
astronomers of the eleventh century ; Khasis was a Spanish Arab, of the 
tenth centnry ; and Averroes was a Moorish scholar, who flourished in Mo- 
rocco in the twelfth century; Johannes Damascenus was also an Arabian 
physician, but of a much earlier date; Constantius Afer, a native of Carthage, 
and afterwards a monk of Monte Cassino, was one of the founders of the 
Salerno — he lived at the end of the eleventh century ; Bernardus Gordonius, 
professor of medicine at Montpellier, appears to have been Chaucer's con- 
temporary ; John Gatisden was a distinguished physician of Oxford, in the 
earlier half of the fourieenth century ; Gilbertyn is supposed by Warton to 
be the celebrated Gilbertus Anglicus. The other names mentioned here are 
too well known to need further observation. The names of Hippocrates and 
Galen were, in the middle ages, always (or nearly always) spelt Ypocras and 
Galienus. 

444. pestilence. An allusion, probably, to the great pestilences which 
devastated Europe in the middle of the fourteenth century, and to which we 
owe the two celebrated works, the Decameron of Boccacio, and the Visions 
of Piers Ploughman. 

449. cloth makyna. The west of England, and especially the neighborhood 
of Bath, from which the " good wif " came, was celebrated, till a compara- 
tively recent period, as the district of cloth-making. Ipres and Ghent were 
the great clothing marts on the Continent. 

456. ten pounde. This is the reading of all the best MSS. I have consulted. 
Tyrwhitt has a;>o?i?if/. It is a satire on the fashionable head-dresses of the 
ladies at this lime, which appear in the illuminations to be composed of large 
quantities of heavy wadding ; and the satirist takes tbe liberty of exaggerat- 
ing a little. 



32 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Hire hosen were of fyn Scarlett reed, 

Ful streyte y-teyed, and schoos ful moyste and newe. 

Bold was hir face, and fair, and reed of hewe. 460 

Sche was a worthy womman al hire lyfe, 

Housbondes atte chirche dore hadde sche fyfe, 

Withouten othur companye in youthe ; 

But therof needeth nought to speke as nouthe. 

And thries hadde sche ben at Jerusalem ; 

Sche hadde passud many a straunge streem ; 

At Rome sche hadde ben, and at Boloyne, 

In Galice at seynt Jame, and at Coloyne. 

Sche cowde moche of wandryng by the weye. 

Gattothud was sche, sothly for to seye. 470 

Uppon an amblere esely sche sat, 

Wymplid fui wel, and on hire heed an hat 

As brood as is a bocler or a targe ; 

A foot-mantel aboute hire hupes large, 

And on hire feet a paire of sjDores scliarpe. 

In felawschipe wel cowde lawghe and carpe 

Of remedyes of love sche knew parchaunce, 

For of that art sche knew the olde daunce. 

A good man was ther of religioun, 
And was a pore Persoun of a toun ; 480 

But riche he was of holy thought and werk. 
He was also a lerne(3Liiian, a clerk 
That Cristes gospel trulj^ wolde preche ; 
His parischens devoutly wold he teche. 
Benigne he was, and wondur diligent. 
And in adversite ful pacient ; 
And such he was i-proved ofte sithes. 
Ful loth were him to curse for his tythes ; 
But rather wolde he geven out of dowte, 
Unto his pore parisschens aboute, 490 

Of his ofi'rynge, and eek of his substaunce. 
He cowde in litel thing han suffisance, 
Wyd was his parisch, and houses fer asondur, 
But he ne lafte not for reyn ne thondur, 

459. moyste. One of the Cambridge mss. reads softe, wliicb was, perhaps, 
originally a gloss to moyste. 

462. atte chirche dore. The priest formerly joined the hands at the couple, 
and performed a great part of the marriage-service in the church porch. See 
Warton's History of English Poetry, ii. 201 (ed. of 1840). 

468. Coloyne. At Cologne the bones of three Kings of the East were be- 
lieved to be preserved. 

477. remedyes. An allusion to the title and subject of Ovid's book, De 
Remedio Amoris. 

480. Chaucer, in his beautiful character of the parson, sets up the industri- 
ous secular clergy against the lazy wicked monks. 

483. truly. 1 have substituted this word, which is found in most of the 
Other MS8., for gladly the reading of the Ms. Harl. 



THE PROLOGUE. . 3b 

In sikiies.se ne in uiescliief to vMte 

The ferrest in his parissche, nioche and lite, 

Uppon his feet, and in his hond a staf. 

This noble ensample unto his scheep he gaf. 

That ferst he wroughte, and after that he taughte, 

Out of the gospel he tho wordes caughte, 500 

And this figure he addid yit therto. 

That if gold ruste, what schulde yren doo ? 

For if a prest be foul, on whom we truste, * 

No wondur is a lewid man to ruste ; 

And schame it is, if that a prest take kepe, 

A schiten schepperd and a clene schepe ; 

Wei oughte a prest ensample for to give, 

By his clennesse, how that his scheep schulde lyve. 

He sette not his benefice to huyre, 

And lefte his scheep encombred in the myre, 510 

A nd ran to Londone, unto seynte Poules^ 

To seeken him a chaunterie for soules, 

Or with a brethurhede be withholde ; 

But dwelte at hoom, and kepte wel his folde<- 

So that the Avolf ne made it not myscarye. 

He was a schepperde and no mercenarie ; 

And though he holy were, and vertuous, 

He was to senful man nought dispitous, 

Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne, 

But in his teching discret and benigne. 520 

To drawe folk to heven by fairnesse, 

By good ensample, was his busynesse : 

But it were eny persone obstinat, 

W hat so he were of high or lowe estat, 

Him wolde he snybbe scharply for the nones. 

A bettre preest 1 trowe tlier nowher non is. 

He waytud after no pompe ne reverence, 

Ne maked him a spiced conscience, 

But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve. 

He taught, and ferst he folwed it himselve. 5oO 

With him ther was a PiiOUGHMAJV, his brothur, 
That hadde i-lad of dong ful many a fothur. 
A trewe swynker and a good was hee, 
Lyvynge in pees and parfight charitee. 
God loved he best with al his trewe herte 
At alle tymes, though him gained or smerte. 
And thanne his neighebour right as himselve. 
He wolde threisshe, and therto dyke and delve. 
For Cristes sake, with every pore wight, 

521. fairntsse. This is the reading of most of the MSS. The Ms. Harl, has 
olennesse, which seems uot to give so" good a sense. 

3 



84 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Withouten buy re, if it lave in his might. 540 

His tythes payede he ful faire and wel, 
Bathe of his owne swynk and his catel. 
In a tabbard he rood upon a mere. 

Ther was also a reeve and a mellere, 
A sompnour and a pardoner also, 
A maunciple, and my self ther was no nio. 

The Mellere was a stout carl for the nones, 
Ful big he was of braun, and eek of boones ; 
That prevede wel, for ovei al ther he cam, 
At wrastlynge he wolde here awey the ram. 550 

He was schort schuldred, broode, a thikke knarre, 
Ther nas no dore that he nolde heve of harre, 
Or breke it with a rennyng with his heed. 
His herd as ony so we or fox was reed. 
And therto brood, as though it were a spade. 
Upon the cop right of his nose he hade 
A werte, and theron stood a tuft of heres, 
Reede as the berstles of a souwes eeres. 
His nose-thurles blake were and wyde. 
A swerd and a bocler baar he by his side. 560 

His mouth as wyde was as a gret forneys. 
He was a jangler, and a golyardeys. 
And that was most of synne and harlotries. 
Wel cowde he stele corn, and toUen thries ; 
And yet he hadde a thombe of gold parde. 
A whight cote and blewe hood wered he. 
A baggepipe cowde he blowe and sowne. 
And therwithal he brought us out of towne. 

A gentil Maunciple was ther of a temple, 
Of which achatours mighten take exemplv 570 

For to be wys in beyyng of vitaille. 

550. the ram. "This was the usual prize at wrestling-matches. See below, 
ver. 13671 ; and Gamelyn, ver. 343 and 555. M. Paris mentions a wrestling- 
match at Westminster, in the year 1222, at which a ram was the prize."— 
Tyrhohtt. 

552. harre. This is the reading of all the oldest and best MSS. ; harre, a 
later reading, adopted by Tyrwhitt, appears to have originated with some 
one who did not know the meaning of the other word. 

564. stele corn. During the middle ages millers enjoyed, above all other 
tradesmen, the reputation of being thieves ; and their de'predations were the 
more generally felt, as people in all classes of society carried their own corn 
to the 'Hill to be ground, often in small quantities. 

.565. a thombe of gold. '• If the allusion be, as is most probable, to the old 
proverb— ererj/ honest miller has a thumb of gold— this passage may mean, 
that our miller, notwithstanding his thefts, was an honest miller,—!, e. as 
honest as his brethren."— 2'ii/rw/ii^'. 

567. a baggepipe. The bagpipe was a very popular instrument of music in 
the middle ages, and figures in the illuminated manuscripts of various coun- 
tries. In modern times its use has been restricted to Scotland (probi.bly be- 
cause minstrelsy was longer preserved there) until it was looked upon as the 
national rausic of that country. 



'UE PBOLGGUr. 85 



For Avlietliur that he payde, or took by taille, 
Al^ate he wayted so in his acatc, 
That he was ay biforn and in good state. 
Now is not that of God a ful fair grace, 
That such a lewed mannes wit schal pace 
The wisdom of an heep of lernede men ? 
Of maystres hadde moo than thries ten, 
That were of lawe expert and curious ; 
Of which ther were a doseyn in an hous, 
Worthi to be stiwardes of rente and lond 
Or any lord that is in Engelond, 
To make him lyve by his propre good, 
In honour detteles, but if he were wood, 
Or lyve as scarsly as he can desire ; 
And able for to helpen al a schire 
In many caas that mighte falle or happe ; 

And yit this maunciple sette here aller cappe. \ 

The Reeve was a sklendre colerik man, | 

His herd was schave as neigh as ever he can. 590 I 

His heer was by his eres rounde i-schorn. | 

His top was dockud lyk a preest biforn. 
Ful longe wern his leggus, and ful lene, 
Al like a staff, ther was no calf y-sene. 
Wei cowde he kepe a gerner and a bynne ; 
Ther was non auditour cowde on Ijim wynne. 
Wei wiste he by the drought, and by the reyn. 
The yeeldyng of his seed, and of his greyn. 
His lordes scheep, his meet, and his dayerie, 
His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrie, 600 

Was holly in this reeves governynge, 
And by his covenaunt gaf the rekenynge, 
Syn that his lord was twenti yeer of age ; 
Ther couthe noman bringe him in arrerage. 
Ther nas ballif, ne herde, ne other hyne. 
That they ne knewe his sleight and his covyne : 
They were adrad of him. as of the detli. 
His wonyng was ful fair upon an heth. 
With grene trees i-schadewed was his place. 
He cowde bettre than his lord purchace. 610 

Ful riche he was i-stored prively, 
His lord wel couthe he plese subtilly. 
To ge^-e and lene him of his owne good. 
And have a thank, a cote, and eek an hood. 

688. sette here aller cappe ; i. e. outwitted them all. This phrase occurs 
again ill the Miller's Prologue. 

691. round: Tho Ms. Karl, has veigke ; but all the other MSS. I have con- 
sulted agree in tk« reading I have adopted in the text. 



30 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

In youthe he lerned hadde a good niester ; 

He was a wel good wright, a carpenter. 

This reeve sat upon a wel good stot, 

That was a pomely gray, and highte Scot. 

A long surcote of pers uppon he hadde, 

And by his side he bar a rusty bladde. 620 

Of Northfolk was this reeve of which I telle, 

Byside a toun men callen Baldeswelle. 

Tnkkud he was, as is a frere, aboute, 

And ever he rood the hynderest of the route. 

A SoMPNOUR was ther with us in that place, 
That hadde a fyr-reed cherubynes face, 
For sawceflem he was, with eyghen narwe. 
As hoot he was, and leccherous, as a sparwe, 
With skalled browes blak, and piled herd ; 
Of his visage children weren sore aferd. 630 

Ther nas quyksilver, litarge, ne brimstone.. 
Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon, 
Ne oynement that wolde dense and byte, 
Thar him might helpen of his whelkes white, 
Ne of the knobbes sittyng on his cheekes. 
Wel loved he garleek, oynouns, and ek leekes, 
And for to drinke strong wyn reed as blood. 
Thanne wolde he speke, and crye as he were wood. 
And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn. 
Then wolde he speke no word but Latyn. 640 

A few termes hadde he, tuo or thre. 
That he hadde Jerned out of som decree ; 
No wonder is, he herde it al the day, - 
And eek ye knowe well, hoAv that a jay 
Can clepe Watte, as wel as can the pope. 
But who so wolde in othur thing him grope, 
Thanne hadde he spent al his philosophic, 
Ay, Questio quid juris, wolde he crye. 
He was a gentil harlot and a kynde ; 
A bettre feiaw schulde men nowher fynde. 650 

619. pers. The Ms. Harl. alone reads blew ; perse was a sky-blue color. 
622. BaMesivelle. A parish in Eynford hundred, Norfolk. 
626. cherubynes face. H. Stephens, Apol. Herod, i. 30, quotes the same 
thought from a French epigram,— 

Nos grands docteurs du clieruhin visage. 

648. Questio quid juris. " This kind of question occurs frequently in Ralph 
de Hengham. After having stated a case, he adds, q^tid juris ? and then pro- 
ceeds to give the answer to it. See Heng. Mag., c. xi. Esto autem quod 
reus nullo modo venerit ad hunc diem, quid juris? «&c. See also c. xii."— 
Tyrtohitt. 

649. harlot. Chaucer gives us here an excellent picture of the class o£ 
society to which this name was applied in the middle ages. See ihe Glossary 



THE PROLOGUE. 37 



He wolde suffre for a quart of wyn 

A good felaAve to han his concubyn 

A twelve moneth, and excuse him atte fuUe, 

And prively a fynch eek cowde he piille. 

And if he fond owher a good felawe, 

He wolde teche him to have non awe 

In such a caas of the archedeknes curs ; 

But if a mannes soule were in his purs ; 

For in his purs he scholde punyssched be. 

" Purs is the ercedeknes helie," quod he. 660 

But wel I woot he lyeth right in dede ; 

Of cursyng oweth ech gulty man to drede ; 

For curs wol slee right as assoillyng saveth ; 

And also ware him of a significamt. 

In daunger he hadde at his owne assise 

The yonge gurles of the diocise, 

And knew here counseil, and was al here red. 

A garland had he set upon his heed, 

As gret as it were for an ale-stake ; . 

A bokeler had he maad him of a cake. 67G 

With him ther rood a gentil Pardoxer 
Of Round val, his frend and his com per, 
That streyt was comen from the court ef Rome. 
Ful lowde he sang, Come hider, love, to me. 
This sompnour bar to him a stif burdoun, 
Was nevere trompe of half so gret a soun. 
This pardoner hadde heer as yelwe as wex, 
But smotlie it heng, as doth a strike of flex ; 
By unces hynge his lokkes that he hadde, 
And therwith he his shuldres oversi^radde. 680 

Ful thenne it lay, by culpons on and oon, 
But hood, for jolitee, ne wered he noon, 
For it was trussiid up in his walet. 
Him thought he rood al of the newe get, 
Dischevele, sauf his cappe, he rood al bare. 

664. significavit . " The writ de excommunicato capiendo, commoiily called 
a significavit, from the beginning of the writ, wliich is as follows : Rex vice- 
comiti' L. salutem. Signilicavit nobis ventrabilis paler H. L., episcopus, &c. 
Cod. Jur. Ecc, p. lOM-"—Tprwhitt. 

665. in dannyer. The old meaning of the word danger was jurisdiction, 
or dominion whereby persons were liable to fine for certain oiTences to him 
in whose danger they were. Most of the MSS. have gise instead of assise. 

674. Come hider, love, to me. Probably the burden of a popular song, 

675. bar . . . a stif burdoun. " Sang the bass. See ver. 4163, and Ducange 
in V. IJurdo." — Tyrichitt. 

684. newe get. New fashion. Tyrwhitt has illustrated this phrase by a 
passage from Occleve's poem, J)t regimine principis : — 



Also ther is another 7iev;e gette, 

Al foule waste of cloth aud excessif. 



38 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Suche glaryng eyghen hadde he as an hare. 

A vernicle hadde he sowde on his cappe. 

His walet lay byforn him in his lappe, 

Bret ful of pardoun come from Rome al hoot. 

A voys he hadde as smale as eny goot. C90 

No herd ne hadde he, ne never scholde have, 

As smothe it was as it ware late i-schave ; 

I trowe he were a geldyng or a mare. 

But of his craft, fro Berwyk unto Ware, 

Ne was ther such another pardoner. 

For in his male he hadde a jjilwebeer, 

Which, that he saide, was oure lady veyl : 

He seide, he hadde a gobet of the seyl 

That seynt Petur hadde, whan that he wento 

Uppon the see, till Jhesu Crist him hente. 70C 

He hadde a cros of latoun ful of stones, 

And in a glas he hadde pigges bones. 

But with thise reliques, whanne that he fand 

A pore persoun dwellyng uppon land, 

Upon a day he gat him more moneye 

Than that the persoun gat in monthes tweye. 

And thus with feyned flaterie and japes, 

He made the x3ersoun and the people his apes. 

But trewely to tellen atte laste. 

He was in churche a noble ecclesiaste. 710 

Wei cowde he rede a lessoun or a storye. 

But altherbest he sang an offertorie ; 

For wel wyst he, whan that song was songe. 

He moste preche, and wel affyle his tunge. 

To Wynne silver, as he right wel cowde ; 

Therfore he sang ful meriely and lowde. 

Now have I told you schortly in a clause 
Theetat, tharray, the nombre, and eek the cause 
Why that assembled was this companye 
In Southwerk at this gentil ostelrie, 720 

That highte the Tabbard, faste by the Belle. 
But now is tyme to yow for to telle 
How that we bare us in that like night, 
Whan we were in that ostelrie alight ; 
And aftur wol I telle of oure viage, 
And al the remenaunt of oure pilgrimage. 

But ferst I pray you of your curtesie, 
That ye ne rette it nat my vilanye, 
Though that I speke al pleyn in this matere, 
To telle you here wordes and here cheere ; 730 

721. the Belle. Stowe mentions an inn named tlie Bull as being near tbo 
1!abard ; but I have found no mention of the Bell. 



THE PROLOGUE. 39 



Ne though I speke here wordes propurly. 

For this ye kiiowen al so wel as I, 

Who so schal telle a tale aftur a man, 

He moste reherce, as neigh as ever he can. 

Every word, if it be in his charge, 

Al speke he never so rudely ne large ; 

Or elles he moot telle his tale untrewe, 

Or feyne thing, or fynde wordes newe. 

He may not spare, though he were his brothlir I 

He moste as wel sey oo word as anothur. 

Crist spak himself ful broode in holyrwrit. 

And wel ye woot no vilanye is it. 

Eke Plato seith, who so that can him rede, 

The wordes mot be cosyn to the dede. 

Also I pray you to forgeve it me, 

Al have I folk nat set in here degre 

Here in this tale, as that thei schulde stonde ; 

My witt is schorte, ye may well undurstonde. 

Greet cheere made oiire ost us everichon, 
And to the souper sette he us anon ; 750 

And served us with vitaille atte beste. 
Strong was the wyn, and wel to drynke us lest©. 
A seniely man oure ooste was withalle 
For to han been a marchal in an halle ; 
A large man was he with eyghen stepe, 
A fairere burgeys is ther noon in Chepe : 
Bold of his speche, and wys and well i-taught, 
And of manhede lakkede he right naught. 
Eke therto he was right a mery man, 
And after soper playen he bygan, T60 

And spak of myrthe among othur thinges, 
Whan that we hadde maad oure rekenynges ; 
And sayde thus ; *' Lo, lordynges, trewely 
Ye ben to me right welcome hertily : 
For by my trouthe, if that I schal not lye, 
I ne saugh this yeerso mery a companye 
At oones in this herbergh as is now. 
Fayn wold I do yow merthe, wiste I how. 
And of a merthe I am right now bythought. 
To doon you eese, and it schal coste nought. 770 

Ye goon to Caunturbury ; God you speede, 
The blisful martir quyte you youre meede ! 

743. Plato. Tyrwhitt thinks that Chaucer took this saying of Plaio from 
BoethiuB, iii- pr. 12. 

748. schirrte. This is the reading in which the MSS. generally agree, and it 
seems ihe best : the Ms. Harl. reads thynne. 

7r>t). Chepe. Cheapside was, in the middle ages, occupied by the weaiUii- 
est and most substantial citizens of London. 



4o TEE CANTERBVRf TALES. 



And wel I woot, as ye gon by the weye, 

Ye schapen yow to talken and to pleye ; 

For trewely comfort ne inerthe is noon, 

To ryde by the weye donib as a stoon ; 

And therfore wol I make you disport, 

As I seyde erst, and do you som confort. 

And if yow hketh alle by oon assent 

Now for to standen at my juggement ; 780 

And for to werken as I schal you seye, 

To morwe, whan ye riden by the wpye, 

Now by my fadres soule that is deed, 

But ye be merye, smyteth of myn heed. 

Hold up youre hond witlioute more speche." 

Oure counseil was not longe for to seche ; 

Us thoughte it nas nat worth to make it wys, 

And graunted him withoute more avys, 

And bad him seie his verdite, as liim lesto. 789 

*' Lordynges, "quoth he," now herkenetli for the beste ; 

But taketh not, I pray you, in disdayn ; 

This is the poynt, to speken schort and i)layn. 

That ech of yow to schorte with youre weie, 

In this viage, schal telle tales tweye, 

To Caunturburi-ward, I mene it so. 

And horn- ward he schal tellen othur tuo 

Of aventures that ther han bifalle. 

And which of yow that bereth him best of alle, 

That is to seye, that telleth in this caas 

Tales of best sentence and of solas, 800 

Schal han a soper at your alther cost 

Here in this place sittynge by this post, 

Whan that we comen ageyn from Canturbery. 

And for to make you the more mery, 

I wol myselven gladly with you ryde. 

Right at myn owen cost, and be youre gyde. 

And who so wole my juggement withseie 

Schal paye for al we spenden by the weye. 

And if ye vouch esauf that it be so. 

Telle me anoon, withouten wordes moo, 810 

And I wole erely schappe me therfore." 

This thing was graunted, and oure othus swore 

Witli ful glad herte, and prayden him also 

Tliat he wolde vouchesauf for to doon so, 

And that he wolde ben oure governour, 

And of oure tales jugge and reportour. 

And sette a souper at a certeyn prys ; 

And we wolde rewled be at his devys, 

Jii heygh and lowe ; and thus by oon assent 



THE PROLOGUE. 4l 



We been aoorded to his juggement. 820 

And therupon the wyn was fet anoon : 

We dronken, and to reste wente echoon, 

Withouten eny lengere taryinge. 

A morwe whan that the day bigan to sprynge, 

Up roos oure ost, and was oure althur cok, 

And gaderud us togider alle in a flok, 

And forth we riden a htel more than paas, 

Unto the waterynge of seint Thomas ; 

And there oure ost bigan his hors areste, 

And seyde ; "Lordas, herkeneth if yow leste. 880 

Ye woot youre forward, and I it you recorde. 

If eve-song and morwe-eong acorde, 

Let se now who schal telle ferst a tale. 

As evere I moote drinke wyn or ale, 

Who so be rebel to my juggement 

Schal paye for al that by the weye is spent. 

Now draweth cut, er that we forther twynne ; 

Which that hath the schortest schal bygynne." 

" Sire knight," quoth he, " maister and my lord. 

Now draweth cut, for that is myn acord. 840 

Cometh ner, quoth he, my lady prioresse ; 

And ye, sir clerk, lat be your schamfastnesse, 

Ne studieth nat; ley hand to, every man." 

Anon to drawen every wight bigan, 
And schortly for to tellen as it was. 
Were it by aventure, or sort, or cas, 
The soth is this, the cut fil to the knight. 
Of which ful glad and blithe was every wight ; 
And telle he moste his tale as was resoun, 
By forward and by composicioun, 850 

As ye han herd ; what needeth wordes moo? 
And whan this goode man seigh that it was so. 
As he that wys was and obedient 
To kepe his forward by his fre assent. 
He seyde ; " Syn I schal bygynne the game, 
What, welcome be thou cut, a Goddus name ! 
Now lat us ryde, and herkneth what I seye." 

And with that word we riden forth oure weye ; 
And he bigan with right a merie chere 
His tale, and seide right in this manere. 860 

828. toaterynge of seint Thomas. The watering of St. Thomas wa? at the 
poccud mile-stone on the old Canterbury road. It is mentioned not unfre- 
(iuently in the early dramatists. 

837. draweth cut. Froissart terms this method of drawing lotri /ire/- d la 
lonyue paiile. 

860. right in this manere. Tyrwhitt reads as ye shul here, and iuserta anon 
after tale. 



42 THE CANTERBURY TALES 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 

Whilom, as olde stories tellen us, 
Ther was a duk that highte Theseus ; 
Of Athenes he was lord and governour, 
And in his tyme swich a conquerour, 
That gretter was ther non under the sonne. 
Ful many a riche contre hadde he wonne ; 
That with his wisdam and his chivah-ie 
He conquered al the regne of Femynye, 
That whilom was i-cleped Cithea ; 

And weddede the queen Ipolita, 870 

And brought hire hoom with him in his coutro 
With nioche glorie and gret solempnitc, 
And eek hire yonge suster Emelye. 
And thus with victorie and with melodye 
Lete I this noble duk to Athenes ryde. 
And al his ost, in armes him biside. 
And certes, if it nere to long to heere, 
I wolde han told yow fully the manere, 
How wonnen was the regne of Fenienye 
By Theseus, and by his chivalrye ; 880 

And of the grete bataille for the nones 
Bytwix Athenes and the Amazones ; 
And how asegid was Ypolita 
The faire hardy quyen of Cithea ; 
And of the feste that was at hire weddj-nge, 
And of the tempest at hire hoom comynge, 
But al that thing I most as now forbere. 
I have; God wot, a large feeld to ere ; 
And wayke ben the oxen in my plough. 
The remenaunt of the tale is long inough, 890 

1 wol not lette eek non of al this rowte. 
Lat every felawe telle his tale aboute. 
And lat see now who schal the soper wynne. 
And ther I lafte, I wolde agayn begynne. 
This duk, of whom I make mencioun, 

The Knighies Tale. This stoiy is taken from the Theseida of Bnocacio. 
which was translated also into French verse ; but whether Chanct r used the 
Italian or the French is not certain, as I have not been able to compare 
Chaucer with the French. The English story differs in some parts consider- 
ably, and is very much abbreviated, from the poem of Boccai io. 'Hie extracts 
fiven in the following notes are repeated from Tyrwhitt. See Tyrnhitt's 
ntrod. asid Warton's Hist, of En.g- Poet. 
868. Femynye. A medieval name for the kingdom of the Amazons. Gower 
(Conf. Amant) terms Penthesilea queen of Feminee. Ciihea is, of course, a 
corruption of Scythia. 

886. tempest. Tyrwhitt has temple, but I think his reasons for this reading 
are not sufficiently weighty to authorize a departure from the text of the Ms, 
Harl,, supported, as it is, by most of the good mss- 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 43 



Whan he was comen almost unto tlie toun. 

In al his wele and in his moste pryde, 

He was war, as he cast his eyghe aside, 

Wher that ther kneled in tlie hye wej^e 

A coinpanye of ladies, tweye and tweye, 900 

Ech after other, clad in clothes blake ; 

But such a cry and such a woo they make. 

That in this world nys creature lyvynge. 

That herde such another waymentynge. 

And of that cry ne wolde they never stenten, 

Til they the reynes of his bridel henten. 

" What folk be ye that at myn horn comynge 

Pertourben so my feste with cryenge ?" 

Quod Theseus, " have ye so gret envye 

Of myn honour, that thus compleyne and crie ? 910 

Or who hath yow misboden, or ofiendid ? 

And telleth me if it may ben amendid ; 

And why that ye ben clad thus al in blak? " 

The oldest lady of hem alle spak, 
Whan sche had swowned with a dedly chere, 
That it was routhe for to seen or heere ; 
And seyde ; " Lord, to whom fortune hath geven 
Victorie, and as a conquerour lyven, 
Nought greveth us youre glorie and honour ; 
But we beseken mercy and socour. 920 

Have mercy on oure woo and oure distresse. 
Som drope of pitee, thurgh youre gentilnesse, 
Uppon us wrecchede wommen lat thou falle. 
For certus, lord, ther nys noon of us alle. 
That sche nath ben a duchesse or a queene ] 
Now be we caytifs, as it is well seene : 
Thanked be fortune, and hire false wheel. 
That noon estat assureth to ben week 
And certus, lord, to ablden youre jjresence 
Here in the temple of the goddesse Clenjence 980 

We han ben waytynge al this fourtenight ; 
Now helpe us, lord, syn it is in thy might. 
I wrecche, which that wepe and waylle tluis. 
Was whilom wyf to kyng Capaneus, 
That starf at Thebes, cursed be that day ; 
And alle we that ben in this array, 
And maken alle this lamentacioun, 
We leften alle oure housbondes at the touu, 
Whil that the sege ther aboute lay. 
And yet the olde Creon, welaway ! 940 

That lord is now of Thebes the citeGj, 
Fulfilde of ire and of iniquite, 



44 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



He for despyt, and for his tyrannye, 

To do the deede bodyes vilonye, 

Of alle oure lordes, which that ben i-slawe, 

Hath alle the bodies on an heep y-drawe, 

And wol not suffren hem by noon assent 

Nother to ben y-buried nor i-brent, 

But maketh houndes ete hem in despite." 

And with that word, withoute more respite, UoG 

They lillen gruf, and criden pitously, 

" Have on us wrecched wommen som mercy, 

And lat oure sorwe synken in thyn herte." 

This gentil duke doun from his courser sterte 

With herte pitous, whan he herde hem speke. 

Him thoughte that his herte wolde breke, 

Whan he seyh hem so piteous and so maat, 

That whilom weren of so gret estat. 

And in his armes he hem alle up hente, 

And hem conforteth in ful good entente ; 900 

And swor his oth, as he was trewe knight, 

He wolde do so ferforthly his might 

Upon the tyraunt Creon hem to wreke, 

That all the people of Grece scholde speke 

How Creon was of Theseus y-served, 

As he that hath his deth right wel deserved. 

And right anoon, withoute eny abood 

His baner he desplayeth, and forth rood 

To Thebes- ward, and al his oost bysyde ; 

No ner Athenes wolde he go ne ryde, 970 

Ne take his eese fully half a day, 

But onward on his way that nyght he lay ; 

And sente anoon Ypolita the queene. 

And Emelye his yonge suster schene, 

Unto the toun of Athenes to dwelle ; 

And forth he ryt ; ther is no more to telle. 

The reede statue of Mars with spere and targe 
So schyneth in his white baner large, 
That alle the feeldes gliteren up and doun ; 
And by his baner was born his pynoun 980 

Of gold ful riche, in which ther was i-bete 
The Minatour which that he slough in Crete 
Thus ryt this duk, thus ryt this conquerour, 
And in his oost of chevalrie the flour. 
Til that he cam to Thebes, and alighte 
Fay re in a feeld wher as he thoughte to fighte. 
But schortly for to speken of this thing, 
With Creon, Avhich that was of Thebes kyng, 
Ho fauglit, and slough him manly as a knight 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 45 



In pleyn bataille, and putte his folk to flight ; 990 

And by assaut he wan the cite aftur, 

And rente doun bothe wal, and sparre, and raftur; 

And to the ladies he restored agayn 

The bones of here housbondes that were slayn, 

To do exequies, as was tho the gyse. 

But it were al to long for to devyse 

The grete clamour and the waymentynge 

Which that the ladies made at the brennynge 

Of the bodyes, and the grete honour 

That Theseus the noble conquerour 1000 

Doth to the ladyes, whan they from him wente ; 

But schortly for to telle is myn entente. 

Whan that this worthy duk, this Theseus, 

Hath Creon slayn, and Thebes wonne thus, 

Stille in the feelde he took al night his reste. 

And dide with al the contre as him leste. 
To ransake in the cas of bodyes dede 

Hem for to streepe of herneys and of wede, 

The piJours diden businesse and cure, 

After the bataile and discomfiture. 1010 

And so byfil, that in the cas thei founde. 

Thurgh girt with many a grevous blody wounde. 

Two yonge knightes liggyng by and by, 

Bothe in oon armes clad ful richely ; 

Of whiche two, Arcite hight that oon, 

And that othur knight hight Palamon. 

Nat fully quyk. ne fully deed they were, 

But by here coote armure, and by here gere, 

Heraudes knewe hem wel in special, 

As they that weren of the blood real 1020 

Of Thebes, and of sistren tuo i-born. 

Out of the chaas the pilours han hem torn, 

And han hem caried softe unto the tente 

Of Theseus, and ful sone he hem sente 

Tathenes, for to dwellen in prisoun 

Perpetuelly, he wolde no raunceoun. 

And this duk whan he hadde thus i-doon, 

He took his host, and hom he ryt anoon 

With laurer crowned as a conquerour ; 

And there he lyveth in joye and in honour i03C 

Terme of his lyf ; what wolle ye wordes moo ? 

And in a tour, in angwische and in woo, 

This Palamon, and his felawe Arcite, 

For evermo, ther may no gold hem quyte. 

This passeth yeer by yeer, and day by day, 
1007. cas. So the otbor best mss. T; rwliitt has substituted tas^ a hoaj^ 



46 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Till it fel oones in a morwo of May 

That Emelie, that fairer was to seene 

Than is the lilie on hire stalkes grene, 

And fresscher than the May viith. floures newe — 

For with the rose colour strof hire hewe, 1040 

I not which was the fyner of hem two — 

Er it was day, as sche was wont to do, 

Sche was arisen, and al redy dight. 

For May wole have no sloggardye a night ; 

The sesoun priketh every gentil herte, 

And maketh him out of his sleepe sterte, 

And seitb, " Arys, and do thin observance." 

This maked Emelye han remembrance 

To do honour to May, and for to ryse. 

I-clothed was sche fressh for to devyse. 1050 

Hire yolwe heer was browdid in a tresse, 

Byhynde hire bak, a yerde long I gesse. 

And in the gardyn at the sonne upriste 

Sche walketh up and doun wher as hire liste. 

Sche gadereth floures, partye whyte and retule, 

To make a certeyn gerland for hire heede 

And as an aungel hevenly sche song. 

The grete tour, that was so thikke and strong, 

Which of the castel was the cheef dongeoun. 

(Ther as this knightes weren in prisoun, 1060 

Of which I tolde yow, and telle schal) 

Was evene joynyng to the gardeyn wal, 

Ther as this Emely hadde hire pleyyng. 

Bright was the sonne, and cleer that morwenynge, 

And Palamon, this woful prisoner. 

As was his wone, by leve of his gayler 

Was risen, and romed in a chambre on heigh, 

In which he al the noble cite seigh, 

And eek the gardeyn, ful of braunches grene, 

Ther as the fresshe Emelye the scheene 1070 

Was in hire walk, and romed up and doun. 

This sorweful prisoner, this Palamon, 

Gooth in the chambre romyng to and fro, 

1049. to do honour to Mmj. The early English poets are full of allusions 
to the popular reverence paid to the month of May, derived from the Pagan 
ages of our forefathers- Traces of these superstitions still remain in the 
custom in different parts of the country of going a-maying on the morning of 
the first day of the month. Such customs are repeatedly alluded to in Chau- 
cer. 

1059. dongeoun. The dongeon was the grand tower of the earlier castles ; 
and beneath it, under ground, was the prison. As the castles were enlarged, 
the dongeon, or keep-tower, being the strongest part of the fortress, was 
frequently made the residence of prisoners of higher rank, who were not 
thrown into the subterranean vaults. Hence the modern use of the word 
dunaeon. 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 4? 



And to himself compleynyng of his woo ; 

That he was born, ful ofte he seyd, alas ! 

And so byfel, by a venture or cas, 

That thurgh a wyndow thikke and many a barre 

Of iren greet and squar as eny sparre, 

He cast his eyen upon Emelya, 

And therwithal he bleynte and cryed, a ! 1080 

As that he stongen were unto the herte. 

And with that crye Arcite anon up sterte, 

And seyde, " Cosyn myn, what eyleth the, 

That art so pale and deedly for to see ? 

Why crydestow ? who hath the doon offence? 

For Goddes love, tak al in pacience 

Oure prisoun, for it may non othir be ; 

Fortune hath geven us this adversite. 

Som wikke aspect or disposieioun 

Of Saturne, by sum constellacioun, 1090 

Hath geven us this, although we hadde it sworn ; 

So stood the heven whan that we -were born ; 

We moste endure it : this is the schort and pleyn." 

This Palamon answered, and seyde ageyn, 
** Cosyn, for sothe of this opynyoun 
Thou hast a veyn yniaginacioun. 
This prisoun caused me not for to crye. 
But I was hurt right now thurgh myn yhe 
Into myn herte, that wol my bane be. 
The fairness of the lady that I see 1 100 

Yonde in the gardyn rome to and fro, 
Is cause of my crj^'ing and my wo. 
I not whethur sche be womman or goddesse ; 
But Venus is it, sothly as I gesse." 
And therwithal on knees adoun he fil, 
And seyde : " Venus, if it be you re wil 
Yow in this gardyn thus to transfigure, 
Biforn me sorwful wrecched creature, 
Oat of this prisoun help that we may scape. 
And if so be oure destine be schape 1 1 10 

By eterne w^ord to deyen in prisoun. 
Of oure lynage haveth sum compassioun. 
That is so lowe y-brought by tyrannye." 
And with that word Arcite gan espye 
Wher as this lady romed to and fro. 
And with that sight liire beaute hurt him so, 

1090. Saturne. According to the old astrological system, this was a very 
impropitious star to he born under. It may be observed, that in the present 
Btory there is a constant allusion to medieval astrology, which could uot be 
fully illustrated without long notes. 



48 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



That if that Palamon was wounded sore, 

Arcite is hurt as moche as he, or more. 

And with a sigh he seyde pitously : 

" The freissche beaute sleeth me sodeynly 1120 

Of hir that rometh yonder in the place ; 

And but I have hir mercy and hir grace, 

That I may see hir atte leste weye, 

I nam but deed ; ther nys no more to seye." 

This Palamon, whan he tho wordes herde, 

Dispitously he loked, and answerde : 

*' Whether seistow in ernest or in pley ? " 

*' Nay," quoth Arcite, *' in ernest, in good fey. 

God helpe me so, me lust ful evele pleye." 

This Palamon gan knytte his browes tweye : 1130 

" It nere," quod he, " to the no gret honour, 

For to be fals, ne for to be tray tour 

To me, that am thy cosyn and thy brother 

I-swore ful deepe, and ech of us to other, 

That never for to deyen in the payne. 

Til that deeth departe schal us twayne, 

Neyther of us in love to hynder other, 

Ne in non other cas, my leeve brother ; 

But that thou schuldest trewly forther me 

In every caas, and I schal forther the. 1140 

This was thyn othe, and myn eek certayn ; 

I wot right wel, thou darst it nat witlisayn. 

Thus art thou of my counseil out of doute. 

And now thou woldest falsly ben aboute 

To love my lady, whom I love and serve, 

And evere schal, unto myn herte sterve. 

Now certes, fals Arcite, thou schal not so. 

I loved hir first, and tolde the my woo 

As to my counseil, and to brother sworn 

To forther me, as I have told biforn, 1150 

For which thou art i-bounden as a knight 

To help me, if it lay in thi might, 

Or elles art thou fals, I dar wel sayn." 

This Arcite ful proudly spak agayn. 

** Thou schalt," quoth he, '* be rather fals than I. 

1134. I-swore. It was a common practice in the middle ages for persons to 
take formal oaths of fraternity and friendship, and a breach of the oath waa 
considered something worse than perjury. This incident enters into the plots 
of some of the medieval romances. A curious example will be found m the 
Romance of Athelston, Reliq. Antiq. ii. p. 85. 

1135. deijen in the payne. This appears to have been a proverbial expres. 
Bion tiiken from the French. In Froissart, as cited by Tyrwhitt, Edward 1 1 
is made to declare that he would bring the war to a successful iissue, o: ii 
mourroit en In, i civt. 

1137. love. The Harl. Ms. lias lande. 




'1'he knightes tale. 



THE KN/GRTES TALE ^i/ 



But thou art fals, I telle the ut-tirly. 

For par amour I loved hir first then thow. 

What wolt thou sayn ? thou wost not yit novs 

Whether sche be a womman or goddesse, 

Thyn is affeccioun of holynesse, 1160 

And myn is love, as of a creature ; 

For which I tolde the myn aventure 

As to my coeyn, and my brother swnrr. 

I pose, that thou lovedest hire biforn ; 

Wost t-hou nat wel the olde clerkes sawe, 

That who schal geve a lover eny Jaw:-, 

Love is a grettere lawe, by my pan. 

Then may be geve to eny erthly man ? 

Therefore posityf lawe, and such decre, 

Is broke alway for love in ech degree^ 11 7C 

A man moot needes love maugre his hieed. 

He may nought fle it, though he schuld > be deed 

Al be sche mayde, or be sche widewe or wyf 

And that it is nat likly al thy lyf 

To stonden in hire grace, no more schal I j 

For wel thou wost thyselven verrily, 

That thou and I been dampned to prisouc 

Perpetuelly, us gayneth no raunsoun. 

We stryve, as doth the houndes for tho boon, 

They foughte al day, and yit here part was noon , 

Ther com a kyte, whil that they were wrothc, 

And bar awey the boon bitwixe hem bo the 

And therfore at the kynges court, my brother, 

Eche man for himself, there is non otl:-cr. 

Love if the list ; for I love and ay schal ; 

And sothly, leeve brother, this is al. 

Eke in this prisoun moote we endure. 

And every of us take his adventure." 

Gret was the stryf and long bytwixe hem tweye. 

If that I hadde leysir for to seye ; 1190 

But to the effect, it happed on a day, 

(To telle it yow as schortly as I may) 

A worthy duk that highte Perotheus, 

That fellaw was to the duk Theseus 

Syn thilke day that they were children !yte, 

1165. the old clerkes sawe. Boethius, who says, in his treatise Dt Conaol-^i 
.Philos. lib. iii. met. 12,— 

Quia legem det amantibus? 
Major lex amor est sibi. 

1179. fumndes. This is a medieval fable which I have not met with 
elsewhere, though it may probably bo found iu some of the iuedited coi- 
lertious 

4 



50 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Was come to Athenes, his felawe to visite, 

And for to pley, as he was wont to do, 

For in this world he loved noman so : 

And he loved liim as tendurly agayn. 

So wel they loved, as olde bookes sayn, 1200 

That whan that oon was deed, sothly to telle, 

His felawe wente and sought him doun in helle ; 

But of that story lyst me nought to write. 

Duk Perotheus loved wel Arcite, 

And hadde him knowe at Thebes yeer by yeer j 

And fynally at requeste and prayer 

Of Perotheus, withoute any raunsoun 

Duk Theseus him leet out of prisoun, 

Frely to go, wher him lust over al, 

In such a gyse, as I you telle schal. 1210 

This was the forward, playnly to enditc, 

Betwixe Theseus and him Arcite : 

That if so were, that Arcite were founde 

Evere in his lyf, by daye or night, o stound 

In eny contre of this Theseus, 

And he were caught, it was acorded thus, 

That with a swerd he scholde lese his heed ; 

Ther nas noon other remedy ne reed, 

But took his leeve, and homeward he him spedde ; 

Let him be war, his nekke lith to wedde. 1220 

How gret a sorwe suffreth now Arcite ! 
The deth he feleth thorugh his herte smyte ; 
He weepeth, weyleth, cryeth pitously ; 
To slen himself he wayteth pryvyly. 
He seyde, '* Alias the day that I was born ! 
Now is my prisoun werse than was biforne ; 
Now is me schape eternally to dwelle 
Nought in purgatorie, but in helle. 
Alias ! that ever knewe I Perotheus ! 
For elles had I dweld with Theseus * 123C 

I-fetered in his prisoun for evere moo. 
Than had I ben in blis, and nat it woo. 
Oonly the sight of hir, whom that I serve, 
Though that I hir grace may nat deserve, 
Wold han sufficed right ynough for me. 
O dere cosyn Palamon," quod he, 
" Thyn is the victoire of this aventure, 
Ful blisfully in prisoun to endure ; 
In prisoun ? nay, certes but in paradys I 
Wel hath fortune y-torned the the dys, 1240 

1202. in helle. Au allusiou to tbo classic story of Theseus aud Pirithoue 



TEE KNTGHTES TALE 



That hath the sight of hir, and I the absence. 

For possible is, syn thou hast hir presence, 

And art a knight, a worthi and an able, 

That by som cas, syn fortune is chaungable, 

Thou maist to thy desir sonityme atteyne. 

But I that am exiled, and bareyne 

Of alle grace, and in so gret despair, 

That ther nys water, erthe, ijr, ne eyr, 

Ne creature, that of hem maked is. 

That may me helpe ne comfort in this. 1250 

Wei ought I sterve in ws.nhope and distresse ; 

Farwel my lyf and al my jolynesse. 

Alias, why playnen folk so in comune 

Of purveance of God, or of fortune, 

That geveth hem ful ofte in many a gyse 

Wei better than thei can hemself devyse ? 

Som man desireth for to have richesse. 

That caus is of his morthre or gret seeknesse. 

And som man wolde out of his prisoun fayn, 

That in his hous is of his mayne slayn. 1360 

Infinite harmes ben in this mateere ; 

We wote nevere what thing we prayen heere. 

We faren as he that dronke is as a mows. 

A dronke man wot wel he hath an hous, 

But he not nat which the righte wey is thider, 

And to a dronke man the wey is slider. 

And certes in this world so faren we. 

We seeken faste after fell cite. 

But we gon wrong ful ofte trewely. 

Thus may we seyen alle, namely I, 1270 

That wende have had a gret opinioun, 

That gif I mighte skape fro prisoun. 

Than had I be in joye and parfyt hele, 

Ther now I am exiled fro my wele. 

Syn that I may not se yow, Emelye, 

I nam but deed ; ther nys no remedye." 

Uppon that other syde Palamon, 
Whan he wiste that Arcite was agoon, 
Such sorwe maketh, that the grete tour 
Resowneth of his yollyng and clamour. 1280 

The pure feteres of his schynes grete 
Weren of his bitter salte teres wete. 
"Alias ! " quod he, " Arcita, cosyn myn, 
Of al oure strif, God woot, the fruyt is thin. 
Thow walkest now in Thebes at thi large, 

1264. a dronke man. From Boethius J)e Consul, lib, in, pr, 2. "sOd v^lllt 

»t)riu6, domum quo traxuite revertatur igworat," 



52 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And of my woo thou gevest litel charge. 

Thou maiste, syn thou hast wysdom and manhede, 

Assemble al the folk of oure kynrede, 

And make a werre so scharpe in this cite, 

That by som aventure, or by som trete, 1290 

Thou mayst hire wynne to lady and to wyi, 

For whom that I most needes leese my lyf. 

For as by wey of possibilite, 

Syn thou art at thi large of prisoun free, 

And art a lord, gret is thin avantage, 

More than is myn, that sterve here in a kage. 

For I moot weepe and weyle, whil I lyve. 

With al the woo that prisoun may me gyve. 

And eek with peyne that love me geveth also, 

That doubleth al my torment and my wo." 1300 

Therwith the fuyr of jelousye upsterte 

Withinne his brest, and hent him by the herte 

So wodly, that lik was he to byholde 

The box-tree, or the asschen deed and colde. 

Tho seyde he ; "0 goddes cruel, that governe 

This world with byndyng of youre word eterne, 

And writen in the table of athamaunte 

Youre parlement and youre eterne graunte, 

What is mankynde more to yow holde 

Than is a scheep, that rouketh in the folde ? 1310 

For slayn is man right as another beste. 

And dwelleth eek in prisoun and an este, 

And hath seknesse, and greet adversite, 

And ofte tymes gilteles, parde. 

What governaunce is in youre prescience, 

That gilteles tormenteth innocence ? 

And yet encreceth this al my penaunce. 

That man is bounden to his observaunce 

For Goddes sake toletten of his wille, 

Ther as a beste may al his lust fulfllle. 1330 

And whan a beste is deed, he ne hath no peyne ; 

But man after his deth moot wepe and pleyne, 

Though in this world he have care and woo : 

Withouten doute it may stonde so. 

The answer of this I lete to divinis. 

But wel I woot, that in this world gret pyne is. 

Alias 1 I se a serpent or a theef , 

That many a trewe man hath doon mescheef, 

Gon at his large, and wher him lust may turne. 

But I moste be in prisoun thurgh Saturne, 1330 

And eek thorugh Jiino, jalous and eke wood, 

That hath destruyed wel neyh al the blood 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 53 



Of Thebes, with his waste walles wyde. 
And Venus sleeth me on that other syde 
For jelousye, and fere of him Arcyte." 

Now wol I stynte of Paiamon a lite. 
And lete him stille in his prisoun dwelle, 
And of Arcita forth than wol I telle. 
The somer passeth, and the nightes longe 
Encrescen double wise the peynes stronge 1340 

Bothe of the lover and the prisoner. 
I noot which hath the wofullere cheer. 
For schortly for to sey, this Paiamon 
Perpetuelly is dampned to prisoun, 
In cheynes and in feteres to be deed ; 
And Arcite is exiled upon his heed 
For evere mo as out of that contre, 
Ne nevere mo he schal his lady see. 
Now lovyeres axe 1 this question, 

Who hath the worse, Arcite or Palamou ? 1350 

That on may se his lady day by day, 
But in prisoun he moot dwelle alway. 
That other may wher him lust ryde or go, 
But seen his lady schal he never mo. 
Now deemeth as you luste, ye that can, 
For I wol telle forth as I bigan. 

Whan than Arcite to Thebes come was, 
Ful ofte a day he swelde and seyde alas, 
For seen his lady schal he never mo. 
And schortly to concluden al his wo, 1360 

So moche sorwe had never creature. 
That is or schal whil that the world wol dure. 
His sleep, his mete, his drynk is him byraft. 
That lene he wexe, and drye as eny schaft. 
His eyen holwe, grisly to biholde ; 
His hewe falwe, and pale as asschen colde. 
And solitary he was, and ever alone. 
And dwellyng all the night, making his moone. 
And if he herde song or instrument 13G9 

Then wolde he wepe, he mighte nought be stent. \ 

So feble were his spirites, and so lowe, \ 

And chaunged so, that no man couthe knowe f 

His speche nother his vols, though men it herde. \ 

And in his gir, for all the world he ferde 
Nought oonly lyke the lovers maladye 
Of Hercos, but rather lik manye, 
Engendrud of humour malencolyk, 

1349, this question' An implied allusion to the medieval courts of love, U) 
which questions of this kind were seriously discussed. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Byforne in his selle fantastyk. 

And schortly turned was al up-so-dom^ 

Bothe abyt and eek disposicioun 1380 

Of him, this woful lovere dann Arcite. 

What schulde I alway of his wo endite? 

Whan he endi/rsd hadde a yeer or tuoo 

This crw' 'uiment, and this peyne and woCj. 

At T\ol>es, in his contre, as I seydo, 

'7'pon a night in sleep as he him leyde, 

3im thouglit that how the wenged god MercunG 

Byforn him stood, and bad him to be muiye. 

His slepy yerd in hond he bar upright ; 

An hat he wered upon his heres bright. 139f 

Arrayed was this god (as he took keepe) 

As he was whan that Argous took his sleep ; 

And seyde him thus : " To Athenes schalt thou wende; 

Ther is the schapen of thy wo an end«." 

And with that word Arcite wook and sterte. 

*' Now trewely how sore that me smerte," 

Quod he, " to Athenes right now wol I fare ; 

Ne for the drede of deth schal I not spare 

To see my lady, that I love and serve ; 

In hire presence I recche nat to sterve." 1400 

And with that word he caught a gret myrour, 

And saugh that chaunged was al his colour. 

And saugh his visage was in another kynde. 

And right anoon it ran him into mynde, 

That seththen his face was so disfigured 

Of maladie the which he hath endured, 

He mighte wel, if that he bar him lowe, 

Lyve in Athenes evere more unknowe. 

And see his lady wel neih day by day. 

And right anon he chaunged his aray, 1410 

A.nd clothed him as a pore laborer. 

1378. in his selle fantastyk. Tyrwhitt reads, Beforne his hed in his celle 
fantastike. Tlie division of the brain into cells, according to the different 
sensitive faculties, is very ancient, and is found depicted in medieval manu- 
scripts. It vpas a rude forerunner of the science of phrenology. The ' fan- 
tastic cell ' (fantasia) was in front of the head. In Ms. Harl. No. 4025, is a 
treatise entitled Liber Thesauri Occulii, in which (fol. 5 vo.) we are informed: 
" Et est in cerebro rationativa, in corde irascibilis vel inspirativa, in epate 
voluntaria vel concupiscibilis .... Verumptamen certum est in proia cere- 
bri esse fantasiam, in medio rationem discretionis, in puppi memoriam ; 
quarum si aliqua naturali infirmitate vel percussione desipuerit et maxima 
memoria, prorsus et sompnia perempta sunt, si ratio vel fantasia vero de- 
etructa, eompnia quoquo mode ex memoria remanserunt. Si itaque homo 
multa per sompnium ssepe viderit et oblitus f uerit ea quaa vidit, scito memo- 
rialem partem cerebri ejus tenebrositate et obscuritate detentam esse. Sim- 
iliter de ratione vel judicio et fantasia praeiudicandum est, et infirmitati 
futnrae prascavendum." 

1384. 1 retain Tyrwhitt's reading of this line, whicli iu the Harl. MS. runBi 
/n His cruel tormenU peyne^ and woo. 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 55 



And al alone, save oonly a squyer, 

That knew his pryvyte and al his cas, 

Which was disgysed povrely as he was, 

To Athenes is he go the nexte way. 

And to the court he went upon a day, 

And at the gate he prof red his servyse, 

To drugge and drawe, what so men wolde devyse. 

And schortly of this matier for to seyn, 

He fel in office with a chambirleyn, 1420 

The which that dwellyng was with Emelye. 

For he was wys, and couthe sone aspye 

Of every servaunt, which that served here. 

Wei couthe he hewe woode, and water bere. 

For he was yonge and mighty for the nones, 

And therto he was strong and bygge of bones 

To doon that eny wight can him r^evyse. 

A yeer or two he was in this servise, 

Page of the chambre of Emelye the bright ; 

And Philostrate he seide that he hight. 1430 

But half so wel beloved a man as he, 

Ne was ther never in court of his degree. 

He was so gentil of his condicioun, 

That thorughout al the court was his renoun. 

They seyde that it were a charito 

That Theseus wolde enhaunsen his degree, 

And putten him in w^orschipful servyse, 

Ther as he might his vertii excersise. 

And thus within a while his name spronge 

B othe of his dedes, and of goode tonge, ^ l4o 

That Theseus hath taken him so neer 

That of his chambre he made him squyer, 

And gaf him gold to mayntene his degree ; 

And eek men brought him out of hjs countro 

Fro yeer to yer ful pryvyly his rente, 

But honestly and sleighiy he it spente, 

That no man wondred how that he it hadde. 

And thre yeer in this wise his lyf he ladde, 

And bar him so in pees and eek in werre, 

Ther nas no man that Theseus hath so derre. 1450 

And in this blisse lete I now Arcite, 

And speke I wole of Palamon a lyte. 

In derknes and orrible and strong prisoun 
This seven yeer hath seten Palamon, 
Forpyned, what for woo and for destresse. 
Who feleth double sorwe and hevynesse 

1439. within. The JSIs. Ilarl. reads incorrectly wUMnne, whicb Is tbo ad- 
VWWal form of tke prepoBition. 



6G THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



But Palamon ? that love descreyneth so, 

That wood out of his witt he goth for wo. 

And eek therto he is a prisoner 

Perpetuelly, nat oonly for a yeer. ^^Gt 

Who couthe ryme in Englissch propurly 

His martirdam ? for sothe it am nat I ; 

Therfore I passe as lightly as I may. 

It fel that in the seventhe yeer in May 

The thridde night, (as olde bookes seyn. 

That al this storie tellen more pleyu) 

Were it by aventure or destene, 

(As, whan a thing is schapen, it schal be, 

That soone aftur the mydnyght, Palamon 

By helpyng of a freend brak his prisoun, 1470 

And fleeth the cite fast as he may goo, 

For he had give drinke his gayler soo 

Of a clarre, maad of a certayn wyn, 

With nercotykes and opye of Thebes fyn, 

That aj. that night though that men wold^*^ imschake. 

The gayler sleep, he mighte nought awake. 

And thus he fleeth as fast as ever he may. 

The night was schort, and faste by the day. 

That needes cost he moste himselven hyde. 

And til a grove ther faste besyde 1480 

With dredful foot than stalketh Palamon. 

For schortly this was his opynyoun. 

That in that grove he wolde him hyde al day. 

And in the night then wolde he take his way 

To Thebes- ward, his frendes for to preye 

On Theseus to helpe him to werreye. 

And schortelich, or he wolde lese his lyf 

Or wynnen Emelye unto his wyf. 

This is theffect of his entente playn. 

I^ow wol I torne unto Arcite agayn, .'490 

That litel wiste how nyh that was his care, 

Til that fortune hath brought him in the snare. 

The busy larke, messager of daye, 
Salueth in hire song the morwe gray ; 
And fyry Phebus ryseth up so bright. 
That al the orient laugheth of the light. 
And with his stremes dryeth in the greves 
^he silver dropes, hongyng on the leeves. 
And Arcite, that is in the court ryal 
With Theseus, his squyer principal, 1500 

Is risen, and loketh on the mery day. 

•493. messager of day. The Harl. Ms. reads of May. Three lines below, 
A'whitt reads sigiit for light, very uupoetically. 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 57 



And for to doon his observance to May, 

Remembryng of the poynt of his desire, 

He on his courser, stertynj? as the fire, 

Is riden into feeldes him to pleye. 

Out of the court, were it a niyle or tweye. 

And to the grove, of which that I yow tolde, 

By aventure his wey he gan to holde, » 

To make him a garland of the greves, 

Were it of woodewynde or hawtliorn leves, 1510 

And lowde he song agens the sonne scheeno: 

'* May, with all thyn floures and thy greene, 

Welcome be thou, wel faire freissche May, 

I hope that I som grene gete may." 

And fro his courser, with a lusty herte, 

Into the grove ful lustily he sterte, 

And in a pathe he romed up and doun, 

Ther by aventure thisPalamoun 

Was in a busche, that no man might him see 

Ful sore afered of his detli was he. 1520 

Nothing ne knew he that it was Arcite. 

God wot he wolde have trowed it ful lite. 

For soth is seyde, goon ful many yeres, 

That feld hath eyen, and the woode hath eeres. 

It is ful fair a man to here him evene, 

For al day meteth men atte unset stevene. 

Ful litel woot Arcite of his felawe, 

That was so neih to lierken of his sawe, 

For in the busche he stynteth now ful stille. 

Whan that Arcite had romed al his fille, 1530 

And songen al the roundel lustily. 

Into a studie he fel sodeynly, 

As doth thes lovers in here queynte geeres, 

Now in the croppe, now doun in the breres, 

Now up, now doun, as boket in a welle. 

Right as the Friday, sothly for to telle, 

Now it schyneth, now it reyneth faste. 

Right so gan gery Venus overcaste 

The hertes of hire folk, right as hir day 

Is grisful, right so chauugeth hire aray. 1540 

1524. feld hath eyen. This was a very popular old proverb. Si;e uiy Essayp 
on subjects connected with the Literature, &c. of the Middle Ages, i. p. im, 
A Latin rhymer has given the following version of it, not uncommon in Mss. 

Campus habet lumen, et habet nemus auris acumen. 

1537. noio it schyneth. Tyrwhitt reads, now scldneth it, and proposes on 
6ad MS. authority novj itte shimth; but he was wrong in supposing that" itte 
may have been a dissyllable formerly, aa well as atte." 

1540. grisful. The two Cambridge mss. have gerful and geryfid, which is 
porhaps right. 



58 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Selde is the Fryday al the wyke i-like. 

Whan that Arcite hadde songe, he gaii to sike, 

And sette him doun withouten eny more : 

** Alas ! " quod he, " that day that I was bore ! 

How longd, Juno, thurgh thy cruelte 

Wiltow werreyen Thebes the citee ? 

Alias ! i-brought is to confusioun 

The blood royal of Cadme and Amphioun ; 

Of Cadynus, the which was the furst man 

That Thebes bulde, or first the toun bygan, 1550 

And of that cite first was crowned kyng. 

Of his lynage am I, and his ofspring 

By verray lyne, and of his stok ryal : 

And now I am so caytyf and so thral, 

That he that is my mortal enemy, 

I serve him as his squyer povrely. 

And yet doth Juno me wel more schame, 

For I dar nought byknowe myn owne name 

But ther as I was wont to bote Arcite, 1559 

Now hoote I Philostrate, nought worth a niyte. 

Alias ! thou felle Mars, alias ! Juno, 

Thus hath youre ire owre lynage fordo. 

Save oonly me, and wrecchid Palamon, 

That Theseus martyreth in prisoun. 

And over all this, to slee me utterly, 

Love hath his fyry dart so brennyngly 

I-stykid thorugh my trewe careful herte, 

That schapen was my deth erst than my scherte. 

Ye slen me with youre eyhen, Emelye ; 

Ye ben the cause wherfore that I dye. 1570 

Of al the remenant of al myn other care 

Ne sette I nought the mountaunce of a tare. 

So that I couthe do ought to youre plesaunce." 

And with that word he fel doun in a traunce 

A long tyme ; and aftirward upsterte 

This Palamon, that thoughte thurgh his herte 

He felt a cold swerd sodeynliche glyde ; 

For ire he quook, he nolde no lenger abyde. 

And whan that he hath herd Arcites tale, 

1568. thanmy scherte. This appears to have been a proverbial phntKe, and 
is explained by two passages from the poems of (Jhaucer. In the Let-enae of 
good wome)i, 1. 2618 : — 

Sens first that day, that shapen was my sherte, 
Or by the fatal suster had my dome. 

and in the third book of Troilus and Creseide, I. 734,— 

O fatal sustren, whiche, or any clothe 
Mo shapen was, my desiiuee me spoune. 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 5S 



As he were wood, with face deed and pale, 1580 

He sterte him up out of the bussches thikke, 

And seyd : " Arcyte, false traitour wikke, 

Now art thou hent, that lovest my lady so, 

For whom that I have al this peyne and wo. 

And art my blood, and to my counseil sworn, 

As I ful ofte have told the heere byforn. 

And hast byjaped here the duke Theseus, 

And falsly chaunged hast thy name thus ; 

I wol be deed, or elles thou schalt dye. 

Thou schalt not love my lady Emelye, 1590 

But I wil love hire oonly and no mo ; 

For I am Palamon thy mortal fo. 

And though that I no wepen have in this place. 

But out of prison n am y-stert by grace, 

I drede not that other thou schalt dye. 

Or thou ne schalt not love Emelye. 

Chese which thou wilt, for thou schalt not asterte." 

This Arcite, with ful despitous herte. 

Whan he him knew, and had his tale herde. 

As fers as a lyoun pulleth out a swerde, IGOO 

And seide thus : " By God that sitteth above, 

Nere it that thou art sike and wood for love. 

And eek that thou no wepne hast in this place, 

Thou schuldest never out of this grove pace, 

That thou ne schuldest deyen of myn hond. 

For I defye the seurte and the bond 

Which that thou seyst I have maad to the. 

For, verray fool, thenk that love is fre ; 

And I wol love hire mawgre al thy might. 

But, for thou art a gentil perfight knight, 1610 

And wenest to dereyne hire by batayle, 

Have heere my trouthe, to morwe I nyl not fayle, 

Withouten wityng of eny other wight. 

That heer I wol be founden as a knight. 

And bryngen barneys right inough for the ; 

And ches the best, and lef the worst for me 

And mete and drynke this night wil I bryng 

Inough for the, and cloth for thy beddyng. 

And if so be that thou uiy lady wynne. 

And sle me in this wood that I am inne, 1620 

Thou maist wel have thy lady as for me." 

This Palamon answereth, " I graunt it the." 

And thus they ben departed til a-morwe, 

1604. The Ms. Hail, reads, But out of prisoun art y-stert by gr<w< , which 
probably arose from a mistake of tiie .scribe, who seeiiig that line ItH);; was a 
tepetition of 1593, thought that the uoxt line (1594) was to be repeated ;ilao. 



60 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Whan ech of hem had leyd his feith to borwe. 

O Cupide, out of al charite ! 
O regne, that wolt no felaw have with the 1 
Ful soth is seyde, that love ne lordschipe 
Wol not, his thonkes, have no felaschipe. 
Wei fynden that Arcite and Palamoun. 
Arcite is riden anon to the toun, 1630 

And on the morwe, or it were day light, 
Ful prively two harneys hath he dight, 
Bothe sufBcaunt and mete to darreyne 
The batayl in the feeld betwix hem tweyne. 
And on his hors, alone as he was born, 
He caryed al this harneys him byforn ; 
And in the grove, as tyme and place i-sette, 
This Arcite and this Palamon ben mette. 
Tho chaungen gan here colour in here face. 
Right as the honter in the regne of Trace 1640 

That stondeth in the gappe with a spere. 
Whan honted is the lyoun or the here. 
And hereth him come russhyng in the greves, 
And breketh bothe the bowes and the leves, 
And thenketh, " Here cometh my mortel enemy, 
Withoute faile, he mot be deed or 1 ; 
For eyther I mot slen him at the gappe, 
Or he moot slee me, if it me myshappe : " 
So ferden they, in chaungyng of here hew, 
As fer as eyther of hem other knewe. 1650 

Ther nas no good day, ne so saluyng ; 
But streyt withouten wordes rehersyng. 
Every of hem helpeth to armen other, 
As frendly as he were his owen brother ; 
And thanne with here scharpe speres stronge 
They foyneden ech at other wonder longe. 
Tho it semed that this Palamon 
In his fightyng were as a wood lyoun, 
And as a cruel tygre was Arcite : 

As wilde boores gonne they togeder smyte, 1660 

That frothen white as fome for ire wood. 
Up to the ancle they faught in here blood. 
And in this wise I lete hem fightyng welle ; 
And forthere I wol of Theseus telle. 

The destine, mynistre general. 
That executeth in the world over al 
The purveans, that God hath seye byforn ; 
So strong it is, that they the world had sworn 

166C. executeth. The Ms. Harl. reads, excused. 



THE KNIGUTES TALE. HI 



The contrary of a thing by ye or nay, 
Yet som tyme it schal falle upon a day 1670 

That falleth nought eft in a thousend yeere 
F^r ccrteynly oure appetites heere, 
Be it of werre, of pees, other hate, or love, 
Al is it reuled by the sight above. 
This mene I now by mighty Theseus, 
That for to honte is so desirous, 
And namely the grete hert in May, 
That in his bed ther daweth him no day. 
That he nys clad, and redy for to ryde 
With hont and horn, and houndes him byside. 1680 
For in his hontyng had he such delyt, 
, That is his joye and his appetyt 

To been himself the grete herts bane, 
For after Mars he serveth now Diane. 

Cleer was the day, as I have told or this, 
And Theseus, with alle joye and blys. 
With his Ypolita, the fayre queene, 
And Emelye, clothed al in greene, 
On honting be thay riden r>^ally. 

And to the grove, that stood ther faste by, 1690 

In which ther was an hert as men him tolde, 
Duk Theseus the streyte wey hath holde. 
And to the launde he rydeth him ful right, 
There was the hert y-wont to have his flight, 
And over a brook, and so forth in his Aveye. 
This duk wol have of him a cours or tweye 
With houndes, which as him lust to comaunde. 
And whan this duk was come into the launde, 
Under the sonne he loketh, right anon 
He was war of Arcite and Palamon, 1700 

That foughten breeme, as it were boores tuo ; 
The brighte swerdes wente to and fro 
So hidously, that with the leste strook 
It seemeth as it wolde felle an ook ; 
But what they were, nothing yit he woot. 
This duk with spores his courser he smoot. 
And at a stert he was betwix hem tuoo. 
And pullid out a swerd and cride, " Hoo 1 
Nomore, up peyne of leesyng of your heed. 
By mighty Mars, anon he schal be deed, 1710 

1670. The sentiment expressed in this and the following line is taken direct 
CroTa the Teseide,— 

Ma come nnl vegian venir in hora 
Cossa che in mille anni iion aviene. 

1701. boores tuo. Tyrwhitt. with most of the Mss., readfl holUs (ballB^. 



62 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



That smyteth eny strook, that I may seen I 

But telleth me what mestir men ye been, 

That ben so hardy for to fighten heere 

Withoute jugge or other officere, 

As it were in a lyste really." 

This Palamon answerde hastily, 

And seyde : " Sire, what nedeth wordes mo ? 

We han the deth deserved bothe tuo. 

Tuo woful wrecches been we, and kaytyves, 

That ben encombred of oure owne ly ves ; 1720 

And as thou art a rightful lord and juge, 

Ne geve us neyther mercy no refuge. 

And sle me first, for seynte charite ; 

But sle my felaw eek as wel as me. 

Or sle him first ; for, though thou knowe him lyte. 

This is thy mortal fo, this is Arcite, 

That fro thy lond is banyscht on his heed. 

For which he hath i-served to be deed. 

For this is he that come to thi gate 

And seyde, that he highte Philostrate. 1730 

Thus hath he japed the many a yer, 

And thou hast maad of him thy cheef squyer. 

And this is he that loveth Emelye. 

For sith the day is come that I schal dye, 

I make pleynly my confessioun, 

That I am the woful Palamoun, 

That hath thy prisoun broke wikkedly. 

I am thy mortal foo, and it am I 

That loveth so hoote Emely the bright, 

That I wol dye present in hire sight. 1740 

Therfore I aske deeth and my juwyse ; 

But slee my felaw in the same wyse, 

For bothe we have served to be slayn." 

This worthy duk answerde anon agayn. 
And seide, " This is a schort conclusioun : 
Your owne mouth, by your owne confessioun. 
Hath dampned you bothe, and I wil it recorde 
It nedeth nought to pyne yow with the corde. 
Ye schul be deed by mighty Mars the reede I " 
The queen anon for verray wommanhede 1750 

Gan for to wepe, and so dede Emelye, 
And alle the ladies in the companye. 

1749. Mars the reede. Tyrwhitt has quoted Boccaccio for the same epithet, 
used at the opening of his Teseide— " O rubicondo Maite "—it refers, of course, 
to the color of the planet. The medieval writers constantly mixed up their 
astrological notions of the planets in their manner of looking at the poetical 
deities of the ancients. 



THE KNTGHTES TALE. 63 

Gret pite was it, as it thought hem alle, 

That evere such a chaunce schulde falle ; 

For gentil men thi were and of gret estate, 

And nothing but for love was this debate. 

And saw here bloody woundes wyde and sore ; 

And alle they cryde lesse and the more, 

'* Have mercy, Lord, upon us wommen alle ! " 

And on here bare knees anoon they falle, 1760 

And wolde have kissed his feet right as he stood, 

Til atte laste aslaked was his mood ; 

For pite renneth sone in gentil herte. 

And though he first for ire quok and sterte, 

He hath it al considered in a clause, 

The trespas of hem bothe, and here cause : 

And although his ire here gylt accused, 

Yet in his resoun he hem bothe excused ; 

And thus he thought that every maner man 

Wol help himself in love if that he can, 1770 

And eek delyver himself out of prisoun. 

And eek in his hert had compassioun 

Of wommen, for they wepen ever in oon ; 

And in his gentil hert he thought anoon, 

And sothly he to himself seyde : " Fy 

Upon a lord that wol have no mercy, 

But be a lyoun bothe in word and dede, 

To hem that ben in repentaunce and drede, 

As wel as to a proud dispitious man, 

That wol maynteyne that he first bigan. 1780 

That lord hath litel of discrecioun. 

That in such caas can no divisioun : 

But wayeth pride and humblenesse after oon. 

And schortly, whan his ire is over gon, 

He gan to loke on hem with even light. 

And spak these same wordes al in hight. 

**The god of love, a ! henedicite, 

How mighty and how gret a lord is he ! 

Agayne his might ther gayneth non obstacle, 

He may be cleped a god of his miracle ; 1790 

For he can maken at his owen gyse 

Of ever herte, as him lust devyse. 

Lo her Is Arcite and Palamon, 

That quytely were out of my prisoun, 

And might have lyved in Thebes ryally, 

And witen I am here mortal enemy, 

1761. The Ms. Harl. reads bare feet, which makes thellne too long. 
1785. eyen light. The Harl. Ms. has }>h,r'k- avtl iinhf, which makes the lino 
too long, and the epithet liack is evideiniy ludiiiul;: ;i 



04 TBE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And that here deth lith in my might also, 
And yet hath love, maugre here eyghen tuo, 
I-brought hem hider bothe for to dye. 
Now loketh, is nat that an heih folye ? 1800 

Who may not be a fole, if that he love ? 
Byholde for Goddes sake that sitteth above, 
Se how they blede ! be they nought wel arrayed ? 
Thus hath here lord, the god of love, hem payed 
Here wages and here fees for here servise. 
And yet wenen they to ben ful wise, 
That serven love, for ought that may bifalle. 
But this is yette the beste game of alle, 
That sche, for whom they have this jelousye, 
Can hem therfore as moche thank as me. 1810 

Sche woot no more of al this hoote fare, 
By God, than wot a cuckow or an hare. 
But all moot ben assayed hoot or colde ; 
A man moot ben a fool other yong or olde ] 
I woot it by myself ful yore agon : 
For in my tyme a servant was I on. 
And sythen that I knewe of loves peyne, 
And wot how sore it can a man destreyne, 
As he that hath often ben caught in his lace, 
I you forgeve holly this trespaee, 1820 

At the request of the queen that kneleth heere, 
And eek of Emely, my suster deere. 
And ye schullen bothe anon unto me swere, 
That never ye schullen my corowne dere, 
Ne make werre on me night ne day. 
But be my freendes in alle that ye may. 
I you forgeve this trespas every dele." 
And they him swore his axying fayre and wele, 
And him of lordschip and of mercy prayde, 
And he hem graunted mercy, and thus he sayde : 
" To speke of real lynage and riches, 1831 

Though that sche were a queen or a prynces, 
Ilk of yow bothe is worthy douteles 
To wedde when tyme is, but natheles 
I speke as for my suster Emelye, 
For whom ye have this stryf and jelousye, 
Ye woot youreself sche may not wedde two 
1817. And sythen that. Taken literally from tlie Teseide,— 

Ma pero che gia inamorato fui, 

E per amor sovente folegiai, 

M'e caro molto il perdonare altrui. 

1828. /a»/r« and wele. The Ms. Harl. reads every dele, evidently a meio 
blundering repetition by tlie ecribe of the conclusion of tlie F>nceding lino. 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 6o 



At oones, though ye faughten ever mo : 

That oon of vow, or be him loth or leaf, 

He may go pypen in an ivy leef ; 1840 

This is to say, sche may nought have bothe, 

Al be ye never so jelous, ne so lothe. 

For-thy I put you bothe in this degre, 

That ilk of you schal have his destyne, 

As him is schape, and herken in what wyse ; 

Lo here your ende of that I schal devyse. 

My wil is this, for playn conclusioun, 

Withouten eny repplicacioun, 

If that you liketh, tak it for the best, 

That every of you schal go wher him lest 1850 

Frely withouten raunsoun or daungeer ; 

And this day fyfty wykes, fer ne neer, 

Everich of you schal bryng an hundred knightes, 

Armed for lystes up at alle rightes 

Al redy to dirayne hir by batayle. 

And thus byhote I you withouten fayle 

Upon my trouthe, and as I am a knight. 

That whethir of yow bothe that hath might, 

This is to seyn, that whethir he or thou 

May with his hundred, as I spak of now, 1860 

Sle his contrary, or out of lystes dryve, 

Him schal I geve Emelye to wyve, 

To whom that fortune geveth so fair a grace. 

The lyste schal I make in this place, 

And God so wisly on my sowle rewe. 

As I schal even juge ben and trewe. 

Ye schul non othir ende with me make, 

That oon of yow schal be deed or take. 

And if you thinketh this is wel i-sayde, 

Say youre avys, and holdeth yow apayde. 1870 

This is youre ende and youre conclusioun." 

Who loketh lightly now but Palamoun ? 

Who spryngeth up for joye but Arcite ? 

Who couthe telle, or who couthe endite, 

The joye that is made in this place 

Whan Theseus hath don so fair a grace ? 

But down on knees wente every wight, 

And thanked him with al here hertes might, 

And namely the Thebanes ofte sithe. 

And thus with good hope and herte blithe 1880 

They taken here leve, and hom-ward they ryde 

To Thebes-ward, with olde walles wyde. 

1882. I Lave added ^onrd (which has evidently been onxitted by the Bcrib« 
Of the Ms. Harl.) from one ol the Cambridge Mas, 



66 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



I trow men wolde it deme necligence. 
If I forgete to telle the dispence 
Of Theseus, that goth so busily 
To maken up the lystes rially. 
And such a noble theatre as it was, 
I dar wel say that in this world ther nas. 
The circuite ther was a myle aboute, 
Walled of stoon, and-dyched al withoute. t890 

Round was the schap, in nianer of compaas, 
Ful of degre, the height of sixty paas, 
That whan a man was set in o degre 
He letted nought his felaw for to se. 

Est-ward ther stood a gate of marbul whit. 
West-ward such another in opposit. 
And schortly to conclude, such a place 
Was non in erthe in so litel space. 
In al the lond ther nas no craftys man, 
That geometry or arsmetrike can, 1000 

Ne portreyour, ne kerver of ymages, 
That Theseus ne gaf hem mete and wages 
The theatre for to maken and devyse. 
And for to don his right and sacrifise. 
He est-ward hath upon the gate above, 
In worschip of Venus, goddes of love, 
Don make an auter and an oratory ; 
And west-ward in the mynde and in memory 
Of Mars, he hath i-make'd such another. 
That coste largely of gold a fother. 1910 

And north-ward, in a toret on the walle, 
Of alabaster whit and reed coralle 
An oratory riche for to see, 
In worschip of Dyane goddes of chastite, 
Hath Theseus i- wrought in noble wise. 
But yit had I forgeten to devyse 
The nobil kervyng, and the purtretures, 
The schap, the contynaunce of the figures, 
That weren in these oratories thre. 1919 

Furst in the temple of Venus thou may se 
Wrought in the wal, ful pitous to byholde, 
The broken slepes, and the sykes colde ; 
The sacred teeres, and the waymentyng ; 
The fuyry strokes of the desiryng. 
That loves servauntz in thy lyf enduren ; 
The othes, that by her covenantz assuren. 

1903. In all this description of the arena, there is a singular modification 
of the idea of an ancient amphitheatre, by clothing it in the description of a 
medieval tournament eceue. 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 67 



Plesance and hope, desyr, fool-hardynesse, 

Beaute and youthe, baudery and richesse, 

Charmesand sorcery, lesynges and flatery, 

Dispense, busynes, and jelousy, 1930 

That werud of yolo guides a gerland, 

And a cukkow sittyng on hire hand ; 

Testes, instrumentz, carols, and daunces, 

Lust and array, and al the cijcumstaunces 

Of love, which I rekned and reken schal, 

Ech by other were peynted on the wal, 

And mo than I can make of mencioun. 

For sothly al the mount of Setheroun, 

Ther Venus hath hir principal dwellyng, 

Was schewed on the wal here portrayng, 1940 

With alle the gardyn, and al the lustynes. 

nSTought was forgete ; the porter Ydelnes, 

Ne Narcisus the fayr of yore agon, 

Ne yet the foly of kyng Salamon, 

Ne eek the grete strengthe of Hercules, 

Thenchauntementz of Medea and Cerces, 

Ne of Turnus the hard fuyry corage, 

The riche Cresus caytif in servage. , 

Thus may we see, that wisdom and riches, ; 

Beaute ne sleight, strengthe ne hardynes, 1C50 i 

Ne may with Venus holde champartye, I 

For as sche luste the world than may sche gye. t 

Lo, all this folk i-caught were in hire trace, | 

Til thay for wo ful often sayde alias. 

SuflQceth this ensample oon or tuo. 

And though I couthe reken a thousand mo. 

The statu of Venus, glorious for to see, 

Was naked fletyng in the large see. 

And fro the navel doun all covered was 

With wawes grene, and bright as eny glas. 1960 

A citole in hire right hond hadde sche. 

And on hir heed, ful semely on to see, 

A rose garland ful swete and wel smellyng, 

And aboven hire heed dowves fleyng. 

Biforn hir stood hir sone Cupido, 

Upon his schuldres were wynges two ; 

And blynd he was, as it is often seene ; 

A bowe he bar and arwes fair and greene. 
1929. sorcery. This reading, supported by seveval iMSS.,i6 certainly supe- 
rior to Tyrwhitt's /orce, which perhaps only arose from misreading the abbre- 
viation, forc'e. Sorcery was considered one of the most etfective modes of 
procuriup >ove. 

19,yS. JJctheroun. Citlieron. 

19t ■;. fjreene. So the Harl. Ms. Others read schene and kene, the laiter os 
XFhicL is perhaps the be»t. 



68 THE CANTERBURY TALES 



Why schuld I nought as wel telle you alle 
The portraiture, that was upon the walle 1970 

Within the temple of micjhty Mars the reede ? 
Al peynted was the wal in length and breede 
Like to the estres of the grisly place, 
That hight the gret tempul of Mars in Trace, 
In that colde and frosty regioun, 
Ther as Mars hath his sovereyn mancioun. 
First on the wal was peynted a foreste, 
In which ther dwelled neyther man ne beste. 
With knotty knarry bareyn trees olde 
Of stubbes scharpe and hidous to byholde ; 1980 

In which ther ran a swymbul in a swough, 
As it were a storme schuld berst every bough : 
And downward on an hil under a bent, 
Ther stood the tempul of Marz armypotent, 
Wrought al of burned steel, of which thentre 
Was long and streyt, and gastly for to see. 
And therout cam a rage and suche a prise, 
That it maad al the gates for to rise. 
The northen light in at the dore schon. 
For w^yndow on the w^alle ne was ther noon, 1990 

Thorugh the which men might no light discerne. 
The dores wer alle ademauntz eterne, 
I-clenched overthward and endelong 
With iren tough ; and, for to make it strong, 
Every piler the tempul to susteene 
Was tonne greet, of iren bright and schene. 
Ther saugh I furst the derk ymaginyng 
Of felony, and al tlie compassyng; 
The cruel ire, and reed as eny gleede ; 
The pikepurs, and eek the pale drede ; 2000 

The smyler with the knyf under his cloke ; 
The schipne brennyng with the blake smoke ; 
The tresoan of the murtheryng in the bed ; 
The open werres, with woundes al bi-bled ; 

1977. ** I shall throw together a few lines of the Teseide, which Chaucer 
t J& plainly copied in this description " {Tyrwhitt)— 

Ne v'era bestia ancora ne pastore . • . 
Cerri . . . nodosi, aspri, rigidi, e vetusti . 
E le porte eran de eterno adamante 
Ferrato d'ogni parte tutte quante. 

1981. a sioymbul. This reading of Ms. Harl. is supported by other Mss. 
Tyrwhitt, with some mss., has a romble and a swough. 

2000. pikepurs. The pikepurses were, I believe', the plunderers who fol- 
lowed the army, and their introduction here is not so inappropriate as Tyr- 
whitt seemed to think. 



THE KNTGHTES TALE. 



Comtek with bloody knyf, and scharp manace. 

Al ful of chirkyn^ Avas that sory place. 

The sleer of himself yet saugh I there, 

His herte-blood hath bathed al his here ; 

The nayl y-dryve in the schode a-nyght ; 

The colde deth, with mouth gapyng upright. 2010 

Amyddes of the tempul set misehaunce, 

With sory comfort and evel contynaunce. 

I saugh woodnes laughyng in his rage ; 

The hunt strangled with wilde bores corage ; 

[The caroigne in the busslie, with throte y-corve ; 

A thousand slaine, and not of qualnie y-storve ; 

The tiraunte, with the preye by force y-raft ; 

The toun destroied, ther was no thynge laft. 

Yet sawgh I brente the schippes hoppesteres ; 

The hunte strangled with the wilde beres :] 2020 

The so we freten the child right in the cradel ; 

The cook i-skalded, for al his longe ladel. 

Nought beth forgeten the infortune of Mart ; 

The carter over-ryden with his cart, 

Under the whel ful lowe he lay adoun. 

Ther were also of Martz divisioun, 

The harbour, and the bowcher, and the sniyth, 

That forgeth scharpe swerdes on his stith. 

2005. conteJc. T have kept Tyrwhitt's reftding, supported by most of the 
MS8. The Harl. Ms. reads kuttud, evidently by error. 

2013. Tvrwhltt, with most of the Mss., has Yet saio I lonodnesse laughing in 
his rage, which is perhaps the correct reading. The Ms. Harl- reads tooundes 
for wodnes, and liere raqe. 

2015-2020. These line's, given here from Tvrwhitt, are omitted in Ms. Harl., 
and in some of the other mss. I have corrected Tyrwhilt's orthography by 
the best of the two Cambridge mss. 

2023. ivfortune of Mart. Tyrwhitt thinks that Chaucer might intend to be 
satirical in these lines ; but the introduction of such apparently undignified 
incidents arose from the confusion already mentioned of the god of war with 
the planet to which his name was given, and the influence of which was su^)- 
posed to produce all the disasters here mentioned. The following extract 
from the " Compost of Ptholomeus," already quoted, gives some of the sup- 
posed effects of Mars : " Under Mars is borne theves and robbeis that kepe 
hye wayes, and do hurte to true men, and nyght walkers, and quarell pykere, 
bosters, mockers, and sk offers, and these men of Mars causeth warre and 
niurther, and batayle, they wyll be gladly smythes or w^orkere of yron, lyght 
fyngred, and lyeTS, gret swerers of othes in vengeable wyse.and a great sur- 
niyler and craftv. He is red and angry, with blacke beer, and lytell iyen ; he 
ehall be a great walker, and a maker of swordes and knyves, and a sheder of 
mannes blode, and a fornycatour. and a speker of i^bawldry . . . and good 
to be a harboure and a blode letter, and to drawe tethe, and is peryllous of 
his handes." The following extract is from an old astrological book of the 
Bixteenth century :—" Mars denoteth men with red faces and the skinne 
redde, the face round, the eves yellow, horrible to behold, furious men, cruell, 
desperate, proude, sedioious, souldiers, captaines, smythes, colliers, bakers, 
alcumistes. armourers, funiishers. butchers, diirurgions, barbers, sargiantfl, 
and hangmen, according as thev shal be well or evill disposed." 

2027. Tyrwhitt has altered tliis lijie to Th'nrmerer, and the bowyer,and the 
smith. The barber and butcher, as well as the smith, were under the influr 
ence of Mars. See the extracts in the last note 



70 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And al above depeynted in a tour 

Saw I conquest sittyng in gret honour, 3030 

"With the scharpe swerd over his heed 

Hangynge by a sotil twyne threed. 

Depeynted was ther the slaught of Juhus, 

Of grete Nero, and of Anthonius ; 

Al be that ilke tyme they were unborn, 

Yet was here deth depeynted ther byforn. 

By nianasyng of Martz, right by figure, 

So was it schewed right in the purtreture 

As is depeynted in sterres above. 

Who schai be slayn or elles deed for love. 2040 

Sufficeth oon ensample in stories olde, 

I may not reken hem alle, though I wolde. 

The statue of Mars upon a carte stood, 
Armed, and loked grym as he were wood ; 
And over his heed ther schyneth two figures 
Of sterres, that been cleped in scriptures, 
That oon Puella, that othur Rubius. 
This god of amies was arayed thus : 
A wolf ther stood byforn him at his feet 
With eyen reed, and of a man he eet ; 2050 

With sotyl pencel depeynted was this storie. 
In redoutyng of Mars and of his glorie. 

Now to the temple of Dyane the chaste 
As schortly as I can I wol me haste, 
To telle you al the descripcioun. 
Depeynted ben the walles up and doun, 
Of huntyng and of schamefast chastite. 
Ther saugh I how woful Calystope, 
Whan that Dyane was agreved with here, 
Was turned from a womman to a here, 3060 

And after was sche maad the loode-sterre ; 
Thus was it peynted, I can say no ferre ; 
Hire son is eek a sterre, as men may see. 
Ther sawgh I Dyane turned intil a tree, 
I mene nought the goddes Dyane, 
But Peneus doughter, the whiche hight Dane^ 
Ther saugh I Atheon an hert i-maked. 
For vengance that he saugh Dyane al naked ; 
I saugh how that his houndes han him caught, 
And freten him, for that they knew him naught. 

2039. in sterres. It was supposed by astrologers that every man's fortunos 
were depicted in the stars from the beginning of the world. Other MSS., with 
Tyrwhitt, read cerc'es. 

2042. This line is loft blank in Ms. Harl. 

2063. a sterre. The Harl. Ms. reads, by an evident mistake, is eekaftir at 
til. n may «ct. 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. i\ 



Yit i-peynted was a litel forthermore, 2071 

How Atthalaunce huntyd the wilde bore, 

And Melyagre, and many another mo, 

For which Dyane wi'ought hem care and woo. 

Ther saugh I eek many another story. 

The which me hst not drawe to memory. 

This goddes on an hert ful hve seet, 

With smale houndes al aboute hire feet, 

And undernethe hir feet sche had the moone, 

Wexyng it was, and schulde wane soone. 'JUSO 

In gaude greene hire statue clothed was, 

With bowe in hande, and arwes in a cas. 

Hir ej^ghen caste sche ful lowe adoun, 

Ther Pluto hath his derke region n. 

A woraman travailyng was hire biforn, 

But for hire child so longe was unborn 

Ful pitously Lucyna gan sche calle. 

And seyde, *' Help, for thou mayst best of alle." 

Wei couthe he peynte lyfly that it wrought.. 

With many a floren he the hewes bought. 2090 

Now been thise listes maad, and Theseus 
That at his grete cost arayed thus 
The temples and the theatres every del, 
Whan it was don, it liked him right wel. 
But stynt I wil of Theseus a lite, 
And speke of Palamon and of Arcite. 

The day approcheth of her attournyng, 
That every schuld an hundred knightes bryng, 
The batail to derreyne, as I you tolde ; 
And til Athenes, her covenant to holde, 21 GO 

Hath every of hem brought an hundred knightes, 
Wel armed for the werre at alle rightes. 
And sikerly ther trowed many a man 
That never, siththen that this world bigan 
For to speke of knighthod of her bond. 
As fer as God has maked see or lond, 
Nas, of so fewe, so good a company. 
For every wight that loveth chyvalry. 
And wold, his thankes, have a passant name, 
Hath preyed that he might be of that game ; 2110 

And wel was him, that therto chosen was. 
For if ther felle to morwe such a caas, 
I knowe wel, that every lusty knight, 
That loveth paramours, and hath his might. 
Were it in Engelond, or elleswhere. 
They wold, here thankes, wilne to be there. 
To fighte for a lady ; henedicite J 



72 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



It were a lusty sighte for to sec. 

And right so ferden they Avith Palamon. 

With him ther wente knyghtes many con ; 2120 

Some wol ben armed in an haburgoun, 

In a bright brest plat and a gypoun ; 

And som wold have a peyre plates large, 

And som wold have a Prnce scheld, or a targe * 

Som wol been armed on here legges Aveel, 

And have an ax, and eek a mace of steel. 

Ther nys no newe gyse, that it nas old. 

Armed'were they, as I have you told 

Everich after his owen bpinioun. 

Ther maistow se comyng with Palamoun 2130 

Ligurge himself, the grete kyng of Trace ; 
Blak was his berd, and man^y was his face. 
The cercles of his eyen in h.i% heed 
They gloweden bytwixe yolw and reed. 
And lik a griff oun loked he aboute, 
With kempe heres on his browes stowte ; 
His limes greet, his brawnes hard and stronge, 
His schuldres brood, his armes roundt and longe. 
And as the gyse was in his contre, 

Ful heye upon a chare of gold stood he, 2140 

With foure white boles in a trays. 
In stede of cote armour in his harnays. 
With nayles yolwe, and bright as eny gold, 
He had a bere skyn, cole-blak for old. 
His lange heer y-kempt byhynd his bak, 
As eny raven fether it schon for blak. 
A wrethe of gold arm-gret, and huge of wigkt, 
Upon his heed, set ful of stoones bright. 
Of fyne rubeus and of fyn dyamauntz. 
Aboute his chare wente white alaunz, 2" 50 

Twenty and mo, as grete as eny stere. 
To hunte at the lyoun or at the bere, 
And folwed him, with mosel fast i-bounde, 
Colerd with golde, and torettes fyled rounde. 
An hundred lordes had he in his route 
Armed ful wel, with hertes stern and stoute. 

With Arcita, in stories as men fynde, 
The gret Emetreus, the kyng of Ynde, 
Uppon a steede bay, trapped in steel, 
Covered with cloth and of gold dyapred wel, 2160 

Cam rydyng lyk the god of armes Mars. 

2124. Pruce. This is the reading of most of the M6S. The Ms. Harl haS 
ftrys. 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 78 

His coote armour was of a cloth of Tars, 

Cowched of perlys whyte, round and grete. 

His sadil was of brend gold newe bete ; 

A mantelet upon his schuldre hangyng 

Bret-ful of rubies reed, as fir sparclyng. 

His crispe her lik rynges was i-ronne, 

And that was yalwe, and gliteryng as the sonne. 

His nose was heigh, his eyen were cytryne, 

His lippes rounde, his colour was sangwyn, 3170 

A fewe freknes in his face y-spreynd, 

Betwixe yolwe and somdel blak y-meynd, 

And as a lyoun he his lokyng caste. 

Of fyve and twenty yeer his age I caste. 

His herd was wel bygonne for to sprynge ; 

His voys was as a trumpe thunderynge. 

Upon his heed he wered of laurer grene 

A garlond freisch and lusty for to sene. 

Upon his hond he bar for his delyt 

An egle tame, as eny lylie whyt. 2130 

An hundred lordes had he with him ther, 

Al armed sauf here hedes in here ger, 

Ful richely in alle maner thinges. 

For trusteth wel, that dukes, erles, kynges 

Were gadred in this noble companye, 

For love, and for encres of chivalrye. 

Aboute the kynge ther ran on every part 

Ful many a tame lyoun and lepart. 

And in this wise thes lordes alle and some 

Been on the Sonday to the cite come 3190 

Aboute prime, and in the toun alight. 

This Theseus, this duk, this worthy knight. 

Whan he had brought hem into his cite. 

And ynned hem, everich at his degre 

He festeth hem, and doth so gret labour 

To esen hem, and do hem al honour. 

That yit men wene that no mannes wyt 

Of non estat that cowde amenden it. 

The mynstralcye, the servyce at the feste, 

The grete giftes to the most and leste, 2203 

The riche aray of Theseus paleys, 

Ne who sat first ne last upon the deys, 

What ladies fayrest ben or best daunsyng, 

Or which of hem can daunce best or sing, 

2162. clfyth qf Tars. A kind of silk, said to be the same as in other places 
Is called Tai-tarine {tartar imnn), but the exact derivation of which appears to 
be somewhat '.incertalu. 

2201. Theseus paleijs. The Ms. Harl. reads of Thebes Ms paleys. 



74 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Ne who most felyngly speketh of love ; 

What haukes sitten on the perche above, 

What houndes lyen in the floor adoun : 

Of al this make I now no mencioun ; 

But of theffect ; that thinketh me the beste ; 2209 

Now comth the poynt, and herkneth if you leste. 

The Sonday night, or day bigan to springe, 
When Palamon the larke herde synge, 
Although it were nought day by houres tuo, 
Yit sang the larke, and Palamon also 
With holy herte, and with an heih corage 
He roos, to wenden on his pilgrymage 
Unto the blisful Cithera benigne, 
I mene Venus, honorable and digne. 
And in hire hour he walketh forth a paas 
Unto the lystes, ther hir temple was, S320 

And doun he kneleth, and, with humble cheer 
And herte sore, he seide as ye schal heer. 

** Fairest of faire, o lady myn Venus, 
Doughter of Jove, and spouse to Vulcan us, 
Thou glader of the mount of Citheroun, 
^or thilke love thou haddest to Adeoun 
Have pite on my bitter terres smerte, 
And tak myn humble prayer to thin herte. 
Alias 1 I ne have no langage for to telle 
Theffectes ne the tormentz of myn helle ; 2380 

Myn herte may myn harmes nat bewreye ; 

2219. And in hire hour. " I cannot better illustrate Chaucer's astrology 
than by a quotation from the old Kalendrier de Bergiers, edit. 1500, sign. k. 
ii. b. Qui veult savoir comme bergiers scevent quel planete regue chascuno 
heure du jour et de la nuit, doit savoir la planete du jour qui veult s'enquer- 
ir ; et la premiere heure temporelle du soleil levant ce jour est pour celluy 

flanete, la seconde heure est pour la planete ensuivant, et la tierce pour 
autre, &c., in the following order, viz., Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Sol, Venus, 
Mercury, Luna. To apply this doctrine to the present ca'^e. The tirst hour 
of the Sunday, reckoning from sun-rise, belonged to the Sun, the planet of 
the day ; the second to Venus, the third to Mercury, &c. ; and continuing this 
method of allotment, we shall find that the twenty-second nour aiso belonged 
to the Sun, and the twenty-third to Venus ; so that the hour of Venus really 
was, as Chaucer says, two hours before sunrise of the following day. Accord- 
ingly we are told in ver. 227.3, that the third hour after Palamon set out for 
tlie temple of Venus, the Sun rose, and Emelie began to go to the temple of 
Diane. It is not said that this was the hour of Diane, or the Moon, but it 
.really was: for, as we liave just seen, the twenty-third hour of Sunday be- 
longing to Venus, the twenty-fourth must be given to Mercury, and the first 
hour of Monday falls in course to the Moon, the presiding planet of that day. 
After this Arcite is described as walking to the temple of Mars, ver. 2369, in 
the nexte houre of Mars, that is, the fourth hour of the day. It is necessary to 
take these words together, for fhe nexte houre, singly, would signify the 
secoJid hour of the day ; but that, according to the rule of rotation men- 
tioned above, belonged to Saturn, as the (hii'd did to Jupiter. The fourth 
was the nexte houre of Mars that occurred after the hour last named."— 
Tyrwhitt. 

2223. Fairest of ^ aire. The Ms. Harl. reads /airesi, fairest. 



rWE KNIGHTES lALE. 1^ 



I am So confus, that I niay not seye. 
But mercy, lady bright, that knowest "wel 
My thought, and felest what harm that I fel, 
Consider al this, and rew upon my soro^ 
As wisly fis I schtjjl for evermore 
Enforce my might, thi trowe servant to be, 
And holde werre alday with chastite ; 
That make I myn avow, so ye me helpe. 
I kepe nat of armes for to yelpe, 2240 

Ne nat I aske to morn to have victorie, 
Ne renoun in this caas, ne veyne glorie 
Of pris of armes, blowyng up and doun. 
But I wolde have ful possessioun 
Of Emelye, and dye in thi servise ; 
Fynd thou the maner how, and in what W3rsq. 
I recche nat, but it may better be. 
To have victorie of him, or he of me, 
So that I have my lady in myn armes. 
' For though so be that Mars be god of armes, 
And ye be Venus, the goddes of love, S361 

Youre vertu is so gret in heven above, 
Thy temple wol I worschipe evermo. 
And on thin auter, wher I ryde or go, 
I wol do sacrifice, and fyres beete. 
And if ye wol nat so, my lady sweete, 
Than pray I the, to morwe with a spefa 
That Arcita me thurgh the herte bers. 
Thanne rekke I nat, whan I have lost my lyf, 
Though that Arcite have hir to his wyf. 9d60 

This is theffect and ende of my pray ere ; 
Gif me my love, thou blisful lady deer©." 
Whan thorisouo was cloon of Palamon, 
flie sacrifice he dede, and that anoon 
Pul pitously, with alle circumstances, 
Al telle I nat as now his observances. 
But at the last the statu of Venus schook. 
And made a signe, wherby that he took 
That his prayer accepted was that day. 
For though the signe schewed a delay, 2370 

Yet wist he wel that graunted was his boone ; 
And with glad herte he went him hom ful soone. 
The thrid hour inequal that Palamon 

2273. T?ie innd hour inequal. " In the astrological system, the day, from 
Bunrise to sunset, and the night, from sunset to sunrise, being each divided 
Into xii. hours, it is plain that the hours of the day and night were never 
equal, except just at the equinoxes. The hours attributed to the plauets 
were of this unequal sort. See Kalendrier de Berg, loo, cit. and our aattiOi-'c 
treatise on the Astrolabe."— T^ru-Vaif. 



76 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Bigan to Venus temple for to goon, 

Up roos the sonne, and up roos Emelye, 

And to the temple of Dian gan sclie hye. 

Hir maydens, that sche Avith hir thider ladde, 

Ful redily with hem the fyr they hadde, 

Thencens, the clothes, and the remenant al 

That to the sacrifice longen schal ; 2380 

The homes ful of meth, as is the gyse ; 

Ther lakketh nought to do here sacrifise. 

Smokyng the temple, ful of clothes faire, 

This Emelye with herte debonaire 

Hir body wessch with watir of a welle ; 

But how sche dide I ne dar nat telle. 

But it be eny thing in general ; 

And yet it were a game to here it al ; 

To him that meneth wel it were no charge : 

But it is good a man be at his large. 2290 

liir brighte her was kemj^t, untressed al ; 

A corone of a grene ok cerial 

Upon hir heed was set ful fair and meete. 

Tuo fyres on the auter gan sche beete, 

And did hir thinges, as men may biholde 

In Stace of Thebes and the bokes olde. 

Whan kynled was the fyre, with pitous cheere 

Unto Dyan sche spak, as ye may heere. 

"O chaste goddes of the woodes greene, 
To whom bothe heven and erthe and see is scene, 
Queen of the regne of Pluto derk and lowe, 2301 

Goddes of maydenes, that myn hert lias knowe 
Ful many a yeer, ye woot what I desire. 
As keep me fro the vengans of thilk yre, 
That Atheon aboughte trewely : 
Chaste goddesse, wel wost thou that I 
Desire to ben a mayden al my lyf, 
Ne never wol I be no love ne wyf . 
I am, thou wost, yit of thi company, 
A maj^den, and love huntyng and venery, 2310 

And for to walken in the woodes wylde, 
And nought to ben a wyf, and be with chylde. 
Nought wol I knowe the company of man. 
Now helpe me, lady, sythnes ye may and kan, 

2291. brighte her. So in the Teseide, Emily is described aa— 

Dicho che i suo crin parevan d'oro, 
Non con trezza restretti, ma soluti 
E petinati. 

2292. acorone. Corona di querzia cereal e. — J'esewto^ 
2296. In Stace qf Thebfs. Inlbe Thebaidof fi^i*^-? 



TUE KNIGHTES TALE. 77 



For the thre formes that thou hast in the. 

And Palamon, that hath such love to me, 

And eek Arcite, that loveth me so sore, 

This grace I praye the withouten more, 

As sende love and pees betwix hem two ; 

And fro me torne awey here hertes so, 2320 

That al here hoote love, and here desire, 

Al here besy torment, and al here fyre 

Be queynt, or turned in another place. 

And if so be thou wol do me no grace, 

Or if my destyne be schapid so, 

That I schal needes have on of hem two, 

So send me him that most desireth me. 

Biholde, goddes of clene chastite, 

The bitter teeres that on my cheekes falle. 

Syn thou art mayde, and keper of us alle, 2330 

My maydenhode thou kepe and wel conserve. 

And whil I lyve a mayde I wil the serve." 

The fyres bren upon the auter cleer, 
Whil Emelye was in hire preyer ; 
But sodeinly sche saugh a sighte queynt, 
For right anon on of the fyres queynt, 
And quyked agayn, and after that anon 
That other fyr was queynt, and al agon ; 
And as it queynt, it made a whistelyng. 
As doth a wete brond in his brennyng. 2340 

And at the brondes end out ran anoon 
As it were bloody dropes many oon ; 
For which so sore agast was Emelye, 
That sche was wel neih mad, and gan to crie, 
For sche ne wiste what it signifyed ; 
But oonely for feere thus sche cryed, 
And wepte, that it was pite to heere. 
And therwithal Dyane gan appeere, 
With bow in bond, right as a hunteresse, 
And seyd : " A ! dougliter, stynt thyn hevynesse. 
Among the goddes hye it is alfermed, 2351 

And by eterne word write and confermed, 
Thou schalt be wedded unto oon of tho, 
That have for the so moche care and wo ; 
But unto which of hem may I nat telle. 
Farwel, for I may her no lenger dwelle. 
The fyres which that on myn auter l)ren 
Schuln the declare, or that thou go hen, 
Thyn adventure of love, and in this caas." 

2315. thre formes. The Ms. Harl., probably by a mistake of the scribo, 
omits the wotd ihre. 



/3 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And with that word, the arwes in the caas 2360 

Of the goddesse clatren faste and rynge, 
And forth sche went, and made a vanysschynge, 
For which this Emelye astoneyd was, 
And seide, " What amounteth this, alias I 
I put me under thy proteccioun, 
Dyane, and in thi disposicioun." 
And hoom sche goth anon the nexte way. 
This is theffect, ther nys no nior to say. 
The nexte hour of Mars folwynge this, 
Arcite to the temple walkyd is, 2370 

To fyry Mars to doon his sacrifise. 
With al the rightes of his payen wise. 
With pitous herte and heih devocioun. 
Right thus to Mars he sayd his orisoun : 
" O stronge god, that in the reynes cold 
Of Trace honoured and lord art y-hold, 
And hast in every regne and every land 
Of amies al the bridel in thy hand, 
And hem fortunest as the lust devyse, 
Accept of me my pitous sacrifise. 2380 

If so be that my youthe may deserve. 
And that my might be worthi for to servo 
Thy godhed, that I may ben on of thine, 
Then pray I the to re we on my pyne. 
For thilke peyne, and that hoote fuyre, 
In which whilom thou brendest for desyre, 
Whan that thou usedest the gret bewte 2390 

Of faire freissche Venus, that is so free. 
And haddest hir in armes at thy wille ; 
And though the ones on a tyme mysfille. 
When Vulcanus had caught the in his laas. 
And fand the liggyng by his wyf, allaa.s I 
For thilke sorwe that was in thin herte, 
Have reuthe as wel upon my peynes smerte^ 
I am yong and unkonnyng, as thou wosty 
And, as I trowe, with love offendid most, 
That ever was eny lyves creature ; 
For sche, that doth me al this wo endure, 
Ne rekketh never whether I synke or flete. 
And wel I woot, or sche me mercy heete, 2400 

I moot with strengthe wyn hir in the place ; 
And wel I wot, withouten help or grace 
Of the, ne may my strengthe nought avayle. 
Then help me, lord, to morn in my batayie, 

2375. Tbo greater part of tliis prayer ia taken almost Kterally from the 
Teseide. 



THE KNIGHTES TALE, 79 



For thiike fyr that whilom brende the, 

As wel as this fire now brenneth me ; 

And do to morn that I have the victorie. 

Myn be the travail, al thin be the glorie. 

Thy soverein tempul wol I most honouren 

Of any place, and alway most labouren S410 

In thy plesaunce and in thy craftes strong. 

And in thy tempul I wol my baner hong, 

And alle the armes of my companye, 

And ever more, unto that day I dye, 

Eterne fyr I wol bifore the fynde. 

And eek to this avoAv I wol me bynde : 

My berd, myn heer that hangeth longe adoun. 

That never yit ne felt offensioun 

Of rasour ne of schere, I wol thee give, 

And be thy trewe servaunt whiles I lyve. 2420 

Lord, have rowthe uppon my sorwes sore, 

Gif me the victorie, I aske no more." 

The preyer stynt of Arcita the strange, 
The rynges on the tempul dore that hange. 
And eek the dores, clatereden ful fast, 
Of which Arcitn, somwhat was agast. 
The fyres brenden on the auter bright. 
That it gan al the tempul for to light ; 
A swete smel anon the ground upgaf, 
And Arcita anon his hand up haf, 2430 

And more encens into the fyr yet cast, 
With othir rightes, and than atte last 
The statu of Mars bigan his hauberk ryng. 
And with that soun he herd a murmuryng 
Ful lowe and dym, and sayde this, *' Victorie," 
For which he gaf to Mars honour and glorie. 
And thus with joye, and hope wel to fare, 
Arcite anoon unto his inne is fare, 
As fayn as foul is of the brighte sonne. 
And right anon such stryf is bygonne 3440 

For that grauntyng, in the heven above, 
Bitwix Venus the goddes of love, 
And Martz the sterne god armypotent, 
That Jupiter was busy it to stent; 
Til that the pale Saturnes the colde. 
That knew so many of a ventures olde. 
Fond in his olde experiens an art. 
That he ful sone had plesyd every part. 
As soth is sayd, eelde hath gret avantage, 
In eelde is bothe wisdom and usage ; 2450 

Men may the eelde at-ren, but nat at-rcde. 



So THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Saturne anon, to stynte stryf and drede, 

Al be it that it be agayns his kynde, 

Of al this stryf he can a remedy fynde. 

"My deere doughter Venus," quod Satournet 

** My cours, that hath so wyde for to tourne, 

Hath more power than woot eny man. 

Myn is the drenchyng in the see so wan ; 

Myn is the prison n in the derke cote ; 

Myn is the stranglyng and hangyng by the throte ; 

The murmur, and the cherles rebellyng ; 24C1 

The groyning, and the pryve enpoysonyng. 

I do vengance and pleyn correctioun, 

"Whiles I dwelle in the signe of the lyoun. 

Myn is the ruen of the nihe halles. 

The fallyng of the toures and the walles 

Upon the mynour or the carpenter. 

I slowh Sampsoun in schakyng the piler. 

And myne ben the maladies colde, 

The derke tresoun, and the castes olde ; 2470 

Myn lokyng is the fadir of pestilens. 

Now wepe nomore, I schal do my diligence, 

That Palamon, that is myn owen knight, 

Schal have his lady, as thou him bihight. 

Thow Martz schal kepe his knight, yet nevertheles 

Bitwixe you ther moot som tyme be pees ; 

Al be ye nought of oo complexioun, 

That ilke day causeth such divisioun. 

I am thi ayel, redy at thy wille ; 

Wepe thou nomore, I wol thi lust fulfille." 2480 

Now wol I stynt of the goddes above. 

Of Mars, and of Venus goddes of love, 

And telle you, as pleinly as I can. 

The grete effecte for that I bigan. 

Gret was the fest in Athenus that day, 
And eek that lusty sesoun of that May 
Made every wight to ben in such plesaunce, 
That al the Monday jousten they and daunce, 
And spende it in Venus heigh servise. 
But by the cause that they schuln arise 2490 

Erly a-morwe for to see that fight. 
Unto their rest wente they at nyght. 

2453. agayns his kynde. According to the " Compost of Ptholomeus,' 
Saturn was influential in producing strife : " And the children of the sayd 
Saturne shall be great jangeleres ami chyders . . . and they will never forgyve 
tyll they be revenged of theyr quaiell." 

2456. My cours. The course of the planet Saturn. See the nest note. 

2457. morepoicer. The " Compost of Ptholomeus," quoted above, says of 
Saturn, "he is mighty of himself. . . Jtis more than xxx yere or hemay ronne 
his course. . . . ^Vhan he doth reygue, there is mocho debate." 



TEE KNIGETES TALE. 81 



And on the morwe whan the day gan spryng, 

Ui nors and hernoys noyse and clateryng 

Ther was in the oostes al aboute ; 

And to the paleys rood ther many a route 

Of lordes, upon steede and palfreys. 

Ther mayst thou see devysyng of herneys 

So uncowth and so riche wrought and wel 

Of goldsmithry, of browdyng, and of steel ; 2500 

The scheldes bright, testers, and trappures ; 

Gold-beten helmes, hauberks, and cote armures; 

Lordes in paramentes on her coursers, 

Knightes of retenu, and eek squyers ; 

Rayhyng the speres, and helmes bokelyng, 

Girdyng of scheeldes, with layneres lasyng ; » 

Ther as need is, they were nothing ydel ; 

Ther fomen steedes, on the golden bridel 

Gnawyng, and faste armurers also 

With fyle and hamer prikyng to and fro ; 2510 

Yemen on foote, and knaves many oon 

With schorte staves, as thikke as they may goon ; 

Pypes, trompes, nakers, and clariounes, 

That in the batail blewe bloody sownes ; 

The paleys ful of pepul up and doun, 

Heer thre, ther ten, haldyng her questioun, 

Dyvynyng of this Thebans knightes two. 

Som seyden thus, som seyd it schal be so ; 

Som heelde with him with the blake herd, 

Som with the ballyd, som with thikke hered ; 2520 

Som sayd he loked grym as he wold fight ', 

He hath a sparth of twenti pound of wight. 

Thus was the halle ful of devynyng, 

Lang after that the sonne gan to spring. 

The gret Theseus that of his sleep is awaked 

With menstralcy and noyse that was maked, 

Held yit the chambre of his paleys riche. 

Til that the Thebanes knyghtes bothe i-liche 

Honoured weren, and into x)aleys fet. 

Duk Theseus was at a wyndow set. 2530 

Arayed right as he were god in trone. 

The pepul preseth thider-ward ful sone 

Him for to seen, and doon him reverence, 

2516. heel' thre. So in the Teseide,— 

Qui tre, la quatro, e qui sei adunati 
Tra lor mostraudo diverse ragione. 

2527. held yit the chambre. So the Teseide,— 

Anchor le riche camere tenea 
Dei 8U0 palazio. 



B2 TUE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And eek herken his best and his sentence. 
An herowd on a skaffold made a hoo, 
Til al the noyse of the pepul was i-doo ; 
And whan he sawh the pepul of noyse al stille, 
Thus schewed he the mighty dukes wille. 

" The lord hath of his lieih discrecioun 
Considered, that it were destruccioun 2540 

To gentil blood, to fighten in this wise 
Of mortal batail now in this emprise ; 
Wherfore to schapen that they schuld not dye, 
He wol his firste purpos modifye. 
Ko man tlierfore, up peyne of los of lyf , 
No maner schot, ne pollax, ne schort knyf 
Into the lystes sende, or thider bryng ; 
Ne schorte swerd for to stoke the point bytyng 
No man ne draw, ne here by his side. 
Ne noman schal unto his felawe ryde 2550 

But oon cours, with a scharpe spere ; 
Feyne if him lust on foote, himself to were. 
And he that is at meschief, schal be take, 
And nat slayn, but be brought to the stake, 
That schal be ordeyned on eyther syde 3 
But thider he schal by force, and ther abyde. 
And if so falle, a cheventen be take 
On eyther side, or elles sle his make, 
No lenger schal the turneynge laste. 2559 

God spede you ; goth forth and ley on faste. 
With long swerd and with mace fight your fille. 
Goth now your way ; this is the lordes wille." 

The voice of the poepul touchith heven. 
So lowde cried thei with mery steven : 
" God save such a lord that is so good, 
He wilneth no destruccioun of blood I " 
Up goth the trompes and the melodye, 
And to the lystes ryde the companye 
By ordynaunce, thurgh the cite large, 
Hangyng with cloth of gold, and not with sarge. 
Ful lik a lord this nobul duk can ryde, 
These tuo Thebans on eyther side ; 2572 

And after rood the queen, and Emelye, 

2563. The voice of the peopul. So the Teseide,— 

Di noblli e del populo il romore 
Tocho le Btelle, se fu alto e forte, 
Li del, dicendo, servi tal siguore 
Che de gli amici suoi f iigie la morte. ) 

2564. mery- The Ms. Harl. reads mylde. 



TEE KNIGETES TALE. 83 



And after hem another companye 

Of one and other, after here degre. 

And thus they passeden thurgh that cite, 

And to the lystes come thei by tyme ; 

It nas not of the day yet fully pryme. 

Whan sette was Theseus riche and hye, 

Ypolita the queen and Emelye, 2580 

And other ladyes in here degrees aboute, 

Unto the settes passeth al the route. 

And west-ward, thorugh the gates of Mart, 

Arcite, and eek the hundred of his part, 

With baners red ys entred right anoon ; 

And in that selve moment Palamon 

Is, under Venus, est- ward in that place. 

With baner whyt, and hardy cheer of face. 

In al the world, to seeke up and doun, 
So even withoute variacioun 2590 

Ther nere suche companyes tAveye. 
For ther nas noon so wys that cowthe seye, 
That any had of other avauntage 
Of worthines, ne staat, ne of visage. 
So evene were they chosen for to gesse. 
And in two renges faire they hem dresse. 
And whan here names i-rad were everychon, 
That in here nombre gile were ther noon, 
Tho were the gates schitt, and cried lowde : 
" Doth now your devoir, yonge knightes proude \ " 
The heraldz laften here prikyng up and doun ; 
Now ryngede the tromp and clarioun ; 
Ther is nomore to say, but est and west 
In goth the speres into the rest ; 
Ther seen men who can juste, and who can ryde ; 
In goth the scharpe spere into the side. 
Ther schyveren schaftes upon schuldres thyk ; 
He feeleth thurgh the herte-spon the prik. 
Up sprengen speres on twenty foot on lught ; 
Out goon the swerdes as the silver bright. 2610 

The helmes there to-hewen and to-schrede ; 
Out brast the blood, with stoute stremes reede. 
With mighty maces the bones thay to-breste. 
He thurgh the thikkest of the throng gan threete. 

2574. Atid after hem. The Ms. Harl. reads these two lines thus,- 

And after hem of ladyeB another companye. 
And after hem of comunes after here degrts. 

Of ladyes in the first line seems redundant, and the second line appears W) 
have been blundered by a careless or ignorant scribe. 



84 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Ther stomblen steedes strong, and doun can faUe. 

He rolleth under foot as doth a balle. 

He feyneth on his foot with a tronchoun, 

And him hurteleth with his hors adoun. 

He thurgh the body hurt is, and siththen take 

Maugre his heed, and brought unto the stake, 2620 

As forward was, right ther he most abyde. 

Another lad is on that other syde. 

And som tyme doth Theseus hem to rest, 

Hem to refreissche, and drinke if hem lest. 

Ful ofte a-day have this Thebans twoo 

Togider y-met, and wrought his felaw woo ; 

Unhorsed hath ech other of hem tw^eye. 

Ther nas no tygyr in the vale of Galgopleye, 

Whan that hir whelp is stole, whan it is lite. 

So cruel on the hunt, as is Arcite 

For jelous hert upon this Palaiiion : 

Ne in Belmary ther is no fel lyoun, 

That hunted is, or is for hunger wood, 

Ne of his prey desireth so the blood, 

As Palamon to sle his foo Arcite. 

The jelous strokes on here helmes byte ; 

Out renneth blood on bothe here sides reedo. 

Som tyme an ende ther is on every dcde ; 

For er the sonne unto the reste went, 

The strange kyng Emetreus gan hent 2640 

This Palamon, as he f aught with Arcite, 

And his swerd in his fleissch he did byte ; 

And by the force of twenti he is take 

Unyolden, and i-drawe unto the stake. 

And in the rescous of this Palamon 

The stronge kyng Ligurgius is born adoun ; 

And kyng Emetreus for al his strengthe 

Is born out of his sadel his swerdes lengthe. 

So hit him Palamon er he were take ; 2649 

But al for nought, he was brought to the stake. 

His hardy herte might him helpe nought ; 

He most abyde whan that he was caught, 

By force, and eek by composicioun. 

Who sorweth now but woful Palamoun, 

That moot nomore gon agayn to fight ? 

And whan that Theseus had seen that sight, 

He cryed, '* Hoo ! nomore, for it is doon ! 

Ne noon schal lenger unto his felaw goon. 

2617. on his foot. Conf. 1. 2552. 

2628. Galgopleye. Tyrwhitt reads Galaphev, and conjectures that Chaucex 
meant Galapha in Mauritania Tingitana. Belmarie has been noticed before. 
1, 67, 



TEE KNIGHTES TALE. 85 



I wol be trewe juge, and nought partye. 

Arcyte of Thebes schal have Emelye, 2660 

That hath by his fortune hire i-wonne." 

Anoon ther is noyse bygonne 

For joye of this, so lowde and hey withalle, 

It semed that the hstes wolde falle. 

What can now fayre Venus doon above? 

What seith sche now ? what doth this queen of love ? 

But wepeth so, for wantyng of hir wille, 

Til that hire teeres in the lystes fille ; 

Sche seyde : " I am ascharaed douteles." 

Satournus seyde : *' Dough ter, hold thy pees. 2670 

Mars hath his wille, his knight hath his boone, 

And by myn heed thou schalt be esed soone." 

The trompes with the lowde mynstralcy, 

The herawdes, that ful lowde yolle and cry, 

Been in here joye for daun Arcyte. 

But herkneth me, and stynteth but a lite, 

Which a miracle bifel anoon. 

This Arcyte fersly hath don his helm adoun, 

And on his courser for to schewe his face 

He priked endlange in the large place, 2680 

Lokyng upward upon this Emelye ; 

And sche agayn him cast a frendly yghe, 

(For wommen, as for to speke in comune. 

Thay folwe alle the favour of fortune) 

And was alle his in cheer, and in his hert. 

Out of the ground a fyr infernal stert. 

From Pluto send, at the request of Saturne, 

For which his hors for feere gan to turne. 

And leep asyde, and foundred as he leep ; 

And or that Arcyte may take keep, 2690 

He pight him on the pomel of his heed, 

That in that place he lay as he were deed. 

His brest to-broken with his sadil bowe. 

As blak he lay as eny col or crowe, 

So was the blood y-ronne in his face. 

Anon he was y-born out of the place 

With herte sore, to Theseus paleys. 

Tho was he corven out of his barneys, 

And in a bed y-brought ful fair and blyve, 

For yit he was in memory and on lyve, 2700 

And alway cryeng after Emelye. 

Duk Theseus, and al his companye, 

Is comen hom to Athenes his cite. 

With alle blys and gret solempnite. 

Al be it that this aventure was falle, 



S6 TM CANTERBURY TALES. 



He nolde noug:ht discomforten hem alle. 

Men seyde epk, that Arcita schuld nought dye. 

He schal be helyd of his maladye. 

And of another thing they were as fayn, 

That of hem alle ther was noon y-slayn, 2710 

Al were they sore hnrt, and namely oon, 

That with a spere was thirled his brest boon. 

To other woundes, and to broken armes, 

Some hadde salve, and some hadde charmes, 

Fermacyes of herbes, and eek save 

They dronken, for they wolde here lyves have. 

For which this noble duk, as he wel can, 

Comforteth and honoureth every man, 

And made revel al the lange night, 

Unto the strannge lordes, as was right. 2720 

Ne ther was holden no discomfytyng, 

But as a justes or as a turneying ; 

For sothly ther was no discomfiture, 

For fallynge is but an adventure. 

Ne to be lad with fors unto the stake 

Unyolden, and with twenty knightes take, 

A person allone, withouten moo, 

And rent forth by arme, foot, and too, 

And eke his steede dryven forth with staves, 

With footemen, bothe yemen and eke knaves, 2730 

It was aretted him no vylonye, 

Ke no maner man heldn it no cowardye. 
For which Theseus lowd anon leet crie, 

To stynten al rancour and al envye, 

The gree as wel on o syde as on other, 

And every side lik, as otheres brother ; 

And gaf hem g'ftes after here degre, 

And fully heeld a feste dayes thre ; 

And conveyed the knightes worthily 

Out of his toun a journee largely. 2740 

And hom went every man the righte way, 

Ther was no more, but, "Farwel, have good day I" 

Of this batayl I wol no more endite. 

But speke of Palamon and of Arcyte. 

Swelleth the brest of Arcyte, and the sore 
2714, 2715. charmes— save. It may be observed that the salves, charms, 
apd pharmacies of herbs, were the principal remedies of the physician in the 
age of Chaucer. Save (salvia, the herb sage) was considered one of the most 
universally efficient of the medieval remedies. 

2738. daycs tkre. Three days were the usual duration of a feast among 
our early forefathers. As far back as the seventh century, when Wilfred 
consecrated his church at Kipon, he held — magnum convivium trium dierum 
et noctium reges cum omni populo lERtificantes. Eddius, Vit. S. Wilf. c. 17. 
I am told that in Scotland these feasts of three days and throe nights have 
been preserved traditionally to a comparatively recent period. 



TEE KNIGHTES TALE. WJ 

Encresceth at his herte more and more. 

The clothred blood, for eny leche-craft, 

Corrumpith, and is in his bouk i-laft, 

That nother veyne blood, ne ventusyng, 

Ne drynk of herbes may ben his helpyng. 2750 

The vertu expulsif, or animal, 

Fro thiike vertu cleped natural, 

Ne may the venym voyde, ne expelle. 

The pypes of his lounges gan to swelle, 

And every lacerte in his brest adoun 

Is schent with venym and corrupcioun. 

Him gayneth nother, for to get his lyf , 

Vomyt up-ward, ne doun-ward laxatif ; 

Al is to-broken thiike regioun ; 

Nature hath now no dominacioun. 2760 

And certeynly wher nature wil not wirche, 

Farwel phisik ; go bere the man to chirche. 

This al and som, that Arcyte moste dye. 

For which he sendeth after Emelye, 

And Palamon, that was his cosyn deere. 

Than seyd he thus, as ye schul after heere. 

"Naught may the woful spirit in myn herte 
Declare a poynt of my sorwes smerte 
To you, my lady, that I love most ; 
But I byquethe the service of my gost 2770 

To you aboven every creature, 
Syn that my lyf may no lenger dure. 
Alias, the woo ! alias, the peynes stronge, 
That I for you have sufifred, and so longe ! 
Alias, the deth ! alias, myn Emelye ! 
Alias, departyng of our companye ! • 

Alias, myn hertes queen ! alias, my wyf 1 
Myn hertes lady, ender of my lyf ! 
What is this world ? what asken men to have ? 
Now with his love, now in his colde grave 2780 

Allone withouten eny companye. 
Farwel, my swete ! farwel, myn Emelye ! 
And softe take' me in your armes tweye, 
For love of God, and herkneth what I seye. 
I have hear with my cosyn Palamon 
Had stryf and rancour many a day i-gon, 
For love of yow, and eek for jelousie. 
And Jupiter so wis my sowle gj^e. 
To speken of a servaunt proprely. 

With alle circumstaunces trewely, 2790 

That is to seyn, trouthe, honour, and knighthede, 
Wysdom, humblesse, astaat, and by kynredo, 



88 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Fredam, and al that longetli to that art, 

So Jupiter have of my soule part, 

As in this world right now ne know I non 

So worthy to be loved as Palamon, 

That serveth you, and wol do al his lyf. 

And if that ye schul ever be a wyf, 

Forget not Palamon, that gentil man." 

And with that word his speche faile gan j 2800 

For fro his herte up to his brest was come 

The cold of deth, that him had overcome. 

And yet moreover in his amies twoo 

The vital strength is lost, and al agoo. 

Only the intellect, withouten more. 

That dwelled in his herte sik and sore, 

Gan fayle, whan the herte felte deth ; 

Duskyng his eyghen two, and fayled breth. 

But on his lady yit he cast his ye ; 

His laste word was, " Mercy, Emelye ! " 2810 

His spiryt chaunged was, and wente ther, 

As I cam never, I can nat tellen wher. 

Therfore 1 stynte, I nam no dyvynistre ; 

Of soules fynde I not in this registre, 

Ne me list nat thopynyouns to telle 

Of hem, though that thei wyteri wher they dwells. 

Arcyte is cold, ther Mars his soule gye ; 

Now wol I speke forth of Emelye. 

Shright Emely, and howled Palamon, 
And Theseus his sustir took anon 2820 

Swownyng, and bar hir fro the corps away. 
What helpeth it to tarye forth the day, 
To t^le how sche weep bothe eve and morwe ? 
For in swich caas Wommen can have such sorwe, 
Whan that here housbonds ben from hem ago, 
That for the more part they sorwen so, 
Or elles fallen in such mahuiye. 
That atte laste certeynly they dye. 
Infynyt been the sorwes and the teeres 
Of old'e folk, and folk of tendre yeeres ; 2830 

^13. Therefore I stynte. Up to this point, the description of Arcite's 
dying moments i8 taken literally from the Teseide. "This," Tyrwhitt ob- 
eerves, •' is apparently a fling at Boccace's pompous description of the pass- 
age of Arcite's soul to heaven." 

2830. folk, and folk. Tfte Ma. Harl. reads olde folk that ben of tendre. The 
lines which follow are read by Tyrwhitt, on the authority of some of the MSS. 
(perhaps correctly), thus,— 

In all the toun for deth of this Theban : 
For him ther wepeth bothe childe and man. 
So gret a weping was ther non certain, 
Whan Hector was y-brought all fresh y-5l?.sn 
To Troy, &c. 



t 



THE KNIGHTES TALE H9 



So gret a wepyng was ther noon certajm, 

When Ector was i-bronght, al freissh i-slayn, 

As that ther was for deth of this Theban ; 

For sorwe of him ther weepeth bothe child and man 

At Troye, alias ! the pite that was there, 

Cracchyng of cheekes, rendyng eek of here. 

** Why woldist thou be deed," this wommen crye, 

** And haddest gold ynowgh, and Emelye ? " 

No man mighte glade Theseus, 

Savyng his olde fader Egeus, g840 

That knew this worldes ti-ansmutacioun, 

As he hadde seen it torne up and doun, 

Joye after woo, and woo aftir gladnesse ; 

And schewed him ensample and likenesse. 

" Right as ther deyde never man," quod he, 
*'That he ne lyved in erthe in som degree, 
Yit ther ne lyvede never man," he seyde, 
*' In al this world, that som tyme he ne deyde. 
This world nys but a thurghfare ful of woo, 
And we ben pilgryms, passyng to and froo ; 2850 

Deth is an ende of every worldly sore." 
And over al this y^. . seide he mocliil more 
To this effect, ful wysly to enhorte 
The peple, that they schulde him recomforte, 

Duk Theseus, with al his busy cure, 
Cast busyly wher that the sepulture 
Of good Arcyte may best y-maked be, 
And eek most honurable in his degre. 
And atte last he took conclusioun. 
That ther as first Arcite and Palamon 5^860 

Hadden for love the batail hem bytwene, ^ 
That in the selve grove, soote and greene, 
Ther as he hadde his amorous desires. 
His compleynt, and. for love his hoote fyres, 
He wolde make a fyr, in which thoffice 
Of funeral he might al accomplice ; 
And leet comaunde anon to hakke and hewe 
The okes old, and lay hem on a rewe 
In culpouns well arrayed for to brenne. 
His officers with swifte foot they renne, 2870 

And ryde anon at his comaundement. 
And after this, Theseus hath i-sent 
After a beer, and it al overspradde 
With cloth of golde, the richest that he hadde. 
And of the same sute he clad Arcyte ; 
Upon his hondes were his gloves white ; 
Eke on his heed a cruuiie of laurer grene ; 



90 TBE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And in his bond a swerd ful bright and kene. 

He leyde him bare the visage on the beere, 

Therwith he weep that pite was to heere. S;,880 

And for the poeple schulde see him alle. 

Whan it was day he brought hem to the halle, 

That roreth of the cry and of the soun. 

Tho cam this woful Theban Palamoun, 

With floteiy herd, and ruggy asshy heereSj 

In clothis blak, y-dropped al with teeres, 

And, passyng other, of wepyng Emelye, 

The rewfullest of al the companye. 

And in as moche as the service schulde be 

The more nobul and riche in his degre, 2890 

Duk Theseus leet forth thre steedes bryng, 

That trapped were in steel al gliteryng, 

And covered with armes of dan Arcyte. 

Upon the steedes, that weren grete and white, 

Ther seeten folk, of which oon bar his scheeld, 

Another his spere up in his hondes heeld ; 

The thridde bar with him his bo we Turkeys, 

Of brend gold was the caas and eek the herneys ; 

And riden forth a paas with sorwful chere 

Toward the grove, as ye schul after heere. 2900 

The nobles of the Grekes that ther were 

Upon here schuldres earieden the beere. 

With slak paas, and eyhen reed and wete, 

Thurghout the cite, by the maister streete. 

That sprad was al with blak, and wonder liye 

Right of the same is al the stret i-wrye. 

Upon the right hond went olde Egeus, 

And on that other syde duk Theseus, 

With vessels in here hand of gold wel fyn. 

As ful of hony, mylk, and blood, and wyn ; 2910 

Eke Palamon, with a gret companye ; 

And after that com woful Emelye, 

With fyr in hond, as was at that tyme the gyse, 

To do thofRce of funeral servise. 

Heygh labour, and ful gret apparailyng 
Was at the service and at the fyr makyng, 
That with his grene top the heven raughte, 
And twenty fadme of brede tharme straughte ; 
This is to seyn, the boowes were so brode. 
Of stree first was ther leyd ful many a loode. 2020 

But how the fyr was makyd up on highte, 

2897. hU bowe Turkeys. In the Roman de la Rose, 1. 913, Love is describod 
K» ars Turquois. 
how the fyr. The descripticu of the funeral, and several o+Jior 



OS bearing deux ars Turquois 
2021. But ' " ' 



THE KNIGHTES TALE. 91 



And eek the names how the trees highte, 

As ook, fyr, birch, asp, aldir, hohu, popler, 

Wilw, ehn, plane, assch, box, chesteyn, lynde, laurer, 

Mapul, thorn, beeoh, hasil, ew, wyppj^tre, 

How the^/ weren felde, schal nought be told for ma j 

Ne how the goddes ronnen up and doun, 

Disheryt of here habitacioun, 

In which they whilom woned in rest and pees, 

Nymphes, Faunes, and Amadryes ; 3930 

Ne how the beestes and the briddes alle 

Fledden for feere, whan the woode was falle ; 

Ne how the ground agast was of the light, 

That was nought wont to see no sonne bright ; 

Ne how the fyr was couchid first with stree. 

And thanne with drye stykkes cloven in three, 

And thanne with grene woode and spicerie, 

And thanne with cloth of gold and with perrye, 

And gerlandes hangyng with f ul many a flour, 

The myrre, thensens with al so gret odour ; 2940 

Ne how Arcyte lay among al this, 

Ne what richesse aboute his body is ; 

Ne how that Emely, as was the gyse, 

Putt in the fyr of funeral servise ; 

Ne how sche swowned whan sche made the fyre, 

Ne what sche spak, ne what was hire desire ; 

Ne what jewels men in the fyr tho cast, 

Whan that the fyr was gret and brente fast ; 

Ne how sum caste her scheeld, and summe her spere, 

And of here vestimentz, which that they were, 2950 

And cuppes ful of wyn, and my Ik, and blood, 

Unto the fyr, that brent as it w^ere wood ; 

Ne how the Grrekes with an huge route 

Thre tymes ryden al the fyi* aboute 

Upon the lefte hond, with an heih schoutyng, 

And thries with here speres clateryng ; 

And thries how the ladyes gan to crye ; 

Ne how that lad was home-ward Emelye ; 

Ne how Arcyte is brent to aschen colde ; 

Ne how the liche-wake was y-holde 2960 

Al thilke night, ne how the Grekes pleye 

parts of this poem, are taken originally from Thebaid of Statins, to which 
Chaucer has already made a direct reference, 1. 2296. 

2930. Amadryes. This is the veading of all the MSS. I have consulted. It 
is, of course, a corruption of Hamadryades. 

2953. Grekes. The scribe of the Ms. Harl. has by inadvertence (as it is only 
in this instance) substituted the more legitini;ite old English form of ihe 
word, Gregoys. Chaucer, following the Italian, and acquainted with tho 
classic writers, uses ihe form Grekes throughout the Knightes Tale. 

29(50. This line is omitted io Ms. Harl., by au oversight of +he scribe. 



S2 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

The wake-plej^es, kepe I nat to seye ; 
Who wrastleth best naked, with oyle enoynt, 
]Se who that bar him best in no disjoynt. 
I wol not telle eek how they ben goon 
Horn til Athenes whan the pley is doon. 
But schortly to the poynt now wol I wende, 
And maken of my longe tale an ende. 

By proces and by lengthe of certeyn yeres 
Al styntyd is the mornyng and the teeres 2970 

Of alle Grekys, by oon general assent. 
Than semed me ther was a parlement 
At Athenes, on a certeyn poynt and cas ; 
Among the which e poyntes spoken was 
To han with certeyn contrees alliaunce, 
And have fully of Thebans obeissance. 
For which this noble Theseus anon 
Let senden after gentil Palamon, 
Unwist of him what was the cause and why ; 
But in his blake clothes sorwfully /498C 

He cam at his comaundement on hye. 
Tho sente Theseus for Emelye. 

Whan they were sette, and liussht was al the place, 
And Theseus abyden hadde a space 
Or eny word cam fro his wyse brest, 
His eyen set he ther as was his lest, 
And with a sad visage he syked stille, 
And after that right thus he seide his wille. 

" The firste moevere of the cause above, 
Whan he first made the fayre cheyne of love, 2990 

Gret was theffect, and heigh was his entente ; 
Wei wist he why, and what therof he mente ; 
For with that faire cheyne of love he bond 
The fyr, the watir, the eyr, and eek the lond 
In certeyn boundes, that they may not flee ; 
That same prynce and moevere eek," quod he, 
" Hath stabled, in this wrecched world adoun, 
Certeyn dayes and duracioun 
To alle that er engendrid in this place. 
Over the which day they may nat pace, 3000 

Al mowe they yit wel here dayes abregge ; 

2964. The description of the funeral, like that of the tournament, presents 
a curious mixture of classic and medieval ideas, such as is found in other 
works of the same age. 

2993. cheyne of love. This sentiment is taken from Boethius, De Consolat. 
Phil. lib. ii. met. 8,~ 

Hanc rerum seriem ligat, 
Terras ac pelagus regens, 
Et ccelo impentans, amor. 
What follows is taken from the same writer, lib. iv. pr. 6« 



THE KNTGUTES TALE. 93 

Ther needeth uon auctorite tallegge ; 

For it is preved by experience, 

But that me lust declare my sentence. 

Than may men wel \fy this ordre discerned. 

That thilke moevere stabul is and eterne. 

Wel may men knowe, but it be a fool. 

That every partye dyryveth from his hool. 

For nature hath nat take his bygynnyng 

Of no partye ne cantel of a thing, 8010 

But of a thing that parfyt is and stable, 

Descendyng so, til it be corumpable. 

And therfore of his wyse purveaunce 

He hath so wel biset his ordenaunce. 

That spices of thinges and progressiouns 

Schullen endure by successiouns, 

And nat eterne be withoute lye : 

This maistow understand and se at ye. 

*' Lo the ook, that hath so long norisschyng 
Fro tyme that it gynneth first to spring, 3020 

And iiath so long a lyf, as we may see, 
Yet atte laste wasted is the tree. 

" Considereth eek, how that the harde stoon 
Under oure foot, on which we trede and goon, 
Yit ^vasteth it, as it litli by the weye. 
The brode ryver som tyme wexeth dreye. 
The grete townes see we wane and wende. 
Than may I see that al thing hath an ende. 

** Of man and womman se we wel also, 
That wendeth in oon of this termes two, 3030 

That is to seyn, in youthe or elles in age, 
He moot ben deed, the kyng as sclial a page ; 
Sum in his bed, som in the deepe see, 
Som in the large feeld, as men may se. 
Ther helpeth naught, al goth thilke weye. 
Thanne may I see wel that al thing schal deye. 
What maketh this but Jubiter the kyng? 
The which is prynce and cause of alle thing, 
Convertyng al unto his propre wille. 
From which he is dereyned, soth to telle. 
And here agayu no creature on lyve 
Of no degre avayleth for to stry ve. 

" Than is it wisdom, as thenketh me, 

3019. Lo the ook. From the Toseide,— 

J-i qnerci,, die anno si lungo iiutrimeuto 
E tanta vita quaiito noi ved«mo, 
Anno pur alcun tempo finimeuto. 
Le dure pietre aucor, etc. 



64 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



To maken vertu of necessite, 

And take it wel, that we may nat eschewe, 

And namely that that to us alle is dewe. 

And who so gruccheth aught, he doth folye, 

And rebel is to him that al may gye. 

And certeynly a man hath most honour 

To deyen in his excellence and flour, 3050 

Whan he is siker of his goode name. 

Than hath he doon his freend, ne him, no schame. 

And glader ought his freend ben of his deth, 

Whan with honour is yolden up the breth, 

Thanne whan his name appelled is for age ; 

For al forgeten is his vasselage. 

Thanne is it best, as for a worthi fame, 

To dye whan a man is best of name. 

The contrary of al this is wilfulnesse. 

Why grucchen we ? why have we hevynesse, 3080 

That good Arcyte, of chyvalry the flour, 

Departed is, with worschip and honour 

Out of this foule prisoun of this lyf ? 

Why gruccheth heer his cosyn and his wyf 

Of his welfare, that loven him so wel ? 

Can he hem thank ? nay, God woot, never a del, 

That bothe his soule and eek hemself offende, 

And yet they may here lustes nat amende. 

'* What may I conclude of this longe serye, 
But aftir wo 1 rede us to be merye, 3070 

And thanke Jubiter of al his grace ? 
And or that we departe fro this place, 
I rede that we make, of sorwes two, 
O parfyt joye lastyng ever mo : 
And loketh now wher most sorwe is her-inne, 
Ther wol we first amenden and bygynne. 

" Sustyr," quod he, " this is my ful assent, 
With all thavys heer of my parlement. 
That gentil Palamon, your owne knight, 3079 

That serveth yow with herte, will, and might, 
And ever hath doon, syn fyrst tyme ye him knewe, 
That ye schul of your grace upon him rewe, 
And take him for your housbond and for lord : 
Lene me youre hand, for this is oure acord. 
Let see now of your wommanly pite. 
He is a kynges brothir sone, pardee ; 
And though he were a pore bachiller, 
Syn he hath served you so many a yeer, 
And had for you so gret adversite, 
It rnoste be considered, trusteth me. 3090 



THE PROLOGE OF THE MYLLER. 95 

For gentil mercy atighte passe right." 

Than seyde he thus to Palamon ful right ; 

** I trowe ther needeth Htel serraonyng 

To make you assente to this tiling. 

Com neer, and tak your lady hy the hond." 

Bitwix hem was i-maad anon the bond, 

That highte matrimoyn or mariage, 

By alle the counseil of the baronage. 

And thus with blys and eek with melodye 

Hath Palamon i-wedded Emelye. 3100 

And God, that al this wyde world hath wrought, 

Send him his love, that hath it deere i-bought. 

For now is Palamon in al his wele, 

Lyvynge in blisse, richesse, and in hele, 

And Emelye him loveth so tendirly, 

And he hir serveth al so gentilly, 

That never was ther wordes hem bitweene 

Of jelousy, ne of non othir tene. 

Thus endeth Palamon and Emelye ; 

And God save al this fayre companye ! 3110 

THE PROLOGE OF THE MYLLER. 

Whan that the Knight had thus his tale i-told, 
In al the route nas ther yong ne old, 
That he ne seyde it was a noble story, 
And worthi to be drawen to memory ; 
And namely the gentils everichoon. 
Our Host tho lowh and swoor, " So moot I goon, 
This goth right wel ; unbokeled is the male ; 
Let se now who schal telle another tale ; 
For trewely this game is wel bygonne. 
Now telleth ye, sir Monk, if that ye konne 3120 

Somwhat, to quyte with the knightes tale." 
The Myller that for-drunken Avas al pale, 
So that unnethe upon his hors he sat, 
He wold avale nowther hood ne hat, 
Ne abyde no man for his curtesye. 
But in Pilates voys he gan to crye, 
And swor by armes and by blood and bones, 
** I can a nol)le tale for the noones, 
"With which I wol now quyte the knightes tale." 
Oure Hoost saugh wel how dronke he was of ale, 
And seyde, "Robyn, abyde, my leve brother, 3131 

Som bettre man schal telle first another ; 
Abyd, and let us worken thriftyly." 

3126. Pilates voys. Pilate was probably represented in tlie popular Mya- 
teriee speaking in a giult loud voice, ae vua in power aa.i authority. 



96 THE CANTERBURY TALES' 

** By Goddes soule ! " quod he, " that wol nat I, 
For I wol speke, or elles go iny way." 
Oure Host answerd, "Tel on, a devel way! 
Thou art a fool ; thy witt is overcome." 

" Now herkneth," quod this Myller, " al and some ; 
But first I make a protestacioun, 
That I am dronke, I knowe wel by my soun : 
And therfore if that I mys-speke or seye, 3141 

Wyte it the ale of Southwerk, I you preye ; 
For I wol telle a legende and a lyf 
Bothe of a carpenter and of his wyf, 
How that the clerk hath set the wrightes cappe." 

The Reve answered and seyde, *' Stynt thi clappe. 
Let be thy lewed drunken harlottrye. 
It is a synne, and eek a greet folye 
Toapeyren eny man, or him defame, 
And eek to brynge wyves in ylle name. 3150 

Thou mayst ynowgh of other thinges seyn." 
This dronken Miller spak ful sone ageyn, 
And seyde, " Leeve brother Osewold, 
Who hath no wyf, he is no cokewold. 
But I seye not therfore that thou art oon, 
Ther been ful goode wyves many oon. 
And ever a thousand goode agayns oon badde ; 
That knowest thou wel thyself, but if thou madde. 
Why art thou angry with my tale now ? 
I have a vr^^i, parde ! as wel as thow. 
Yet nolde I, for the oxen in my plough 
Take upon me more than ynough ; 3160 

Though that thou deme thiself that thou be oon, 
I wol bileeve wel that I am noon. 
An housbond schal not be inquisityf 
Of Goddes pryvete, ne of his wyf. 
So that he may fynde Goddes foysoun there, 
Of the remenaunt needeth nought enquere." 
What schuld I seye, but that this proud My Here 
He nolde his wordes for no man forbere, 
But tolde his cherlisch tale in his manere. 
Me athinketh, that I schal reherce it heere. 8170 

And therfor every gentil wight I preye. 
For Goddes love, as deme nat that I seye, 
Of y vel entent, but for I moot reherse 
Here wordes alle, al be they better or werse^ 

3166, The next two lines are omitted in Tyrwliitt's text 
The Milleres Tale. I have not met with this story elsewhere than -n 
Chaucer, though it is more than probable that he Look it troni au older >'reu>.^ 
fabliau, which is now lost, or only preserved in some iuedited and little- 
known AI8. 



THE MTLLERES TALE. 9» 

Or elles falsen som of my mateere. 

And therfor who so list it nat to heere, 

Turne over the leef, and cheese another tale ; 

For he schal fynde ynowe bothe gret and sraale, 

Of storial thing that toucheth gentilesse, 

And eek moralite, and holynesse. 3180 

Blameth nat me, if that ye cheese amys. 

The Miller is a cherl, ye know wel this ; 

So was the Reeve and othir many mo, 

And harlotry they tolden bothe two. 

Avyseth you, and put me out of blame ; 

And men schulde nat make ernest of game. 

THE MILLERES TALE. 

Whilom ther was dwellyng at Oxenford 
A riche gnof, that gestes heeld to boorde, 
And of his craft he was a carpenter 
With him ther was dwellyng a pore scoler, 3190 

Had lerned art, but al his fantasye 
Was torned for to lerne astrologye, 
And cowde a certeyn of conclusiouns 
To deme by interrogaciouns. 
If that men axed him in certeyn houres, 
Whan that men schuld han drought or ellys schoures ; 
Or if men axed him what schulde bifalle 
Of every thing, I may nought reken hem alle. 
This clerk was cleped heende Nicholas ; 
Of derne love he cowde and of solas ; 3200 

And therwitL he was sleigh and ful prive, 
And lik a mayden meke for to se. 
A chambir had he in that hostillerye 
Alone, withouten eny compaignye, 
Ful fetisly i-dight with herbes soote, 
And he himself as swete as is the roote 
Of lokorys, or eny cetewale. 
His almagest, and bookes gret and smale, 
His astrylabe. longjmg for his art, 
His augrym sioones, leyen faire apart 3310 

3203. that. The Ms. Harl. reads in his hostillerye. It may be observed, 
that it was usual in the university for two or more students to have one 
room. 

3208. almagest. This book, the work of Ptolemy, derived through the 
Arabs, was the canon of astrological science among our forefathers in tlie 
middle ages. 

3209. astrylabe. The astrolabe was the chief instrument for making as- 
tronomical calcalations. 

3210. augrym stoones. Augrim signifies arithmetic : it is not very certain 
what augrim stones were ; but they were probably counters marked witli 
numerals, and used for calculating on a sorL of abacus. Counters for reckon- 
ing wiih are mentioned in Shakespeare. 

7 



THE CANTERBURY TALES, 



On schelves couched at his beddes heed, 

His presse i-covered with a faldyng reed. 

And al above ther lay a j^ay sawtrye, 

On which he made a-riig'htes inelodye, 

So swetely, that al the chambur rang; 

And Angelus ad virginem he sang. 

And after that he sang the kynges note ; 

Ful often blissed was his mery throte. 

And thus this sweete clerk his tyme spente, 

After his frendes fyndyng and his rente. S230 

This carpenter had weddid newe a wyf, 
Which that he loved more than his lyf ; 
Of eyghteteene yeer sche was of age. 
Gelous he was, and heeld hir narwe in cage, 
For sche was wild and yong, and he was old, 
And denied himself belik a cokewold, 
He knew nat Catoun, for his wit was rudo. 
That bad man schude wedde his similitude. 
Men schulde wedde aftir here astaat, 
For eelde and youthe ben often at debaat. 3230 

But syn that he was brought into the snare, 
He moste endure, as othere doon, his care. 

Fair was the yonge wyf, and therwithal 
As eny wesil hir body gent and smal. 
A seynt sche wered, barred al of silk ; 
A barm-cloth eek as wliit as morne mylk 
Upon hir lendes, ful of many a gore. 
Whit was hir smok, and browdid al byfore 
And eek byhynde on hir coler aboute, 
Of cole-blak silk, withinne and eek withoute. 
The tapes of hir white voluper ^341 

^Veren of the same sute of hire coler ; 
Hir filet brood of silk y-set ful heye. 
And certeynly sche hadd a licorous eyghe ; 
Ful smal y-pulled Averen hir browes two. 
And tho were bent, as blak as a slo. 
Sche was wel more blisful on to see 
Than is the newe perjonette tree ; 
And softer than the wol is of a wethir. 
And by hir gurdil hyng a purs of lethir, 3250 

Tassid with silk, and perled with latoun. 

3216. Angelus ad virginem. One of the hymns of the Church service. It 
is more difficult to say what was the kynges note in the next line. 

3227. Catoun. Chancer alludes to the treatise of Cato de Morihus ; but 
the sentiment is not taken from that book, but from a medieval poem of a 
eimilar chaiacter entitled Facet as, which contains the following linea : — 
Due tibi prole parem sponsam moresque veuustam, 
Si cum pace veils vitam deducere justam. 



THE MTLLERES TALE. 5/9 



In al this world to seken up and doun 

Ther nys no man so wys, that couthe thenche 

So gay a popillot, or Such a wenche. 

For brighter was the schynyng of hir hewe, 

Than in the Tour the noble i-forged newe. 

But of hir song, it was as lowde and yerne 

As eny swalwe chiteryng on a berne. 

Therto sche cowde skippe, and make game, 

As eny kyde or calf folwyng his dame. 3360 

Hir mouth was sweete as bragat is or meth, 

Or hoord of apples, layd in hay or heth. 

Wynsyng sche was, as is a joly colt ; 

Long as a mast, and upright as a bolt. 

A broch sche bar upon hir loue coleer, 

As brod as is the bos of a bocleer. 

Hir schos were laced on hir legges heyghe ; 

Sche was a primerole, a piggesneyghe, 

For eny lord have liggyng in his bedde, 

Or yet for eny good yeman to wedde. 3270 

Now sir, and eft sir, so bifel the cas, 
That on a day this heende Nicholas 
Fil with this yonge wyf to rage and pleye, 
Whil that hir housbond was at Oseneye, 
As clerkes ben ful sotil and ful queynte. 
And pryvely he caught hir by the queynte, 
And seyde, " I- wis, but if I have my wille, 
For derne love of the, lemman, I spille." 
And heeld hir harde by the haunche boones. 
And seyde, " Lemman, love me al at ones, 3280 

Or I wol dye, as wisly God me save." 

And sche sprang out as doth a colt in trave : 
And with hir heed sche wried fast awey, 
And seyde, " I wol nat kisse the, by my fey ! 
Why let be," quod sche, " lat be thou, Nicholas. 
Or I wol crye out harrow and alias ! 
Do wey your handes for your curtesye I " 
This Nicholas gan mercy for to crye, 
And spak so faire, and profred him so faste, 
That sche hir love him graunted atte laste, 3290 

And swor hir oth by seynt Thomas of Kent, 
That sche wol be at his comaundement, 

3255. schynyng. The M6. Harl. reads smylyng, contrary to the Other mss 
that I have exauiiiied. 

3256. noble. The gold noble of this period was a very beautiful coin : speo- 
imens are enj^raved in Huding's Annals of the Coinage. It was coined in 
the Tower of London, llie place of the principal I-Dudon mint. 

3274. Oseneye. The somewhat celebrated abbey of Oseuey stood in the 
suburbs of Oxford. 



100 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Whan that sche may hir leysir wel aspye. 

*' Myn housbond is so ful of jealousie, 

That but ye way ten wel, and be pryve, 

I woot right wel I am but deed," quod sche : 

" Ye mosten be ful derne as in this caas." 

*' Therof ne care the nought," quod Nicholas : 

"A clerk hath Jtherly byset his while, 

But if he cowde a carpenter bygyle." 3300 

And thus they ben acorded and i-sworn 

To wayte a tyme, as I have told biforn. 

Whan Nicholas had doon thus every del, 
And thakked hire aboute the lendys wel. 
He kist hir sweet, and taketh his sawtrye, 
And pleyeth fast, and niaketh melodye. 
Than fyl it thus, that to the parisch chirche 
Cristes owen werkes for to wirche, 
This goode wyf went on an haly day ; 
Hir forheed schon as bright as eny day, 3310 

So was it waissclien, when sche leet hir werk. . 

Now ther was of that chirche a parisch clerk, 
The which that was i-cleped Absolon. 
CruUe was his heer, and as the gold it schon, 
And strowted as a fan right large and brood ; 
Ful streyt and evene lay his jolly schood. 
His rode was reed, his eyghen gray as goos, 
With Powles wyndowes corven on his schoos. 
In hosen reed he went ful fetusly. 

I-clad he was ful smal and propurly, 3320 

Al in a kirtel of a fyn wachet ; 
Schapen with goores in the newe get. 
And tberupon he had a gay surplys, 
As whyt as is the blosme upon the rys. 
A mery child he was, so God me save ; 
Wel couthe he lete blood, and clippe and schave, 

3318. Powles wyndowes. Three figures in the paintings formerly existing 
on the walls of St. Stephen's Chapel, Westniinster, represented shoes of 
Chaucer'o time, which were cut in patterns not unlike the tracery of church- 
windows. I\lr. C. Koach Smith has in his interesting museum some heautiful 
samples of shoes cut in this manner, even more elaborately. It has been con- 
jectured that the phrase Powles wyndowr-s refers more especially to the rose- 
win<low of old St. Paul's Cathedral, which resembled the ornament in one of 
them. Warton, Hist. E. P. ii. 194, says ca/cei fenestrati occur in ancient 
Injunctions to the clergy. Chaucer, in the Romaunt of the Rose, speaks of 
Mirth as 

Shod, with grete maistrie. 

With shone decopid and with lace. 

It may be observed, however, that this is a literal translation Iromthe French 
original, decoupS. 

3322. Instead of this line, Tyrwhitt reads,— 

FvXfaire and thicke ben pointes set. 



THE MILLERES TALE, 101 

And make a chartre of lond and acquitaunce. 
In twenty nianers he coude skip and daunce. 
After the scole of Oxenforde tho, 

And with his legges casten to and fro ; 3330 

And pleyen songes on a small rubible ; 
Ther-to he sang som tyme a lowde quynyble. 
And as wei coude he pleye on a giterne. 
In al the toun nas brewhous ne taverne 
That he ne visited with his solas, 
Ther as that any gaylard tapster was. 
But soth to say he was somdel squaymous 
Of fartyng, and of speche daungerous. 
This Absolon, that joly was and gay, 
Goth with a senser on the haly day, 3340 

Sensing the wyves of the parisch fast ; 
And many a lovely look on hem he cast, 
And namely on this carpenteres wyf ; 
To loke on hire him thought a mery lyf ; 
Sche Avas so propre, sweete, and licorous. 
I dar wel sayn, if sche had ben a mous. 
And he a cat, he wold hir hent anoon. 
This parisch clerk, this joly Absolon, 
Hath in his herte such a love longyng, 
That of no wyf ne took he noon offryng ; 3350 

For curtesy, he seyde, he wolde noon. 
The moone at night f ul cleer and brighte schoon-, 
And Absolon his giterne hath i-take, 
For paramours he seyde he wold awake. 
And forth he goth, jolyf and amerous, 
Til he cam to the carpenteres hous, 
A litel after the cok had y-crowe, 
And dressed him up by a schot wyndowe 
That was under the carpenteres wal. 
He syngeth in his voys gentil and smal — 3360 

" Now, deere lady, if thi wille be, 
I praye yow tliat ye wol rewe on me," 

Ful wel acordyng to his gyternyng. 

This carpenter awook, and herde him syng, 
And spak unto his wyf, and sayde anoon, 
" What, Alisoun, herestow not Absolon, 

3358. schot wyndowe. lam not satisfied with the explanations of this term 
hitherto given. It would seem rallier to mean a window projecting from the 
wall, from which the inmates might shoot upon any one who attempted to 
force an entry into the house by the door, and from which, therefore, it would 
be easy for a person within to expose any part of his body in the manner ex- 
pressed in the sequel of the story. 

3361. Tyrwhitt observes that this and the following line, comprising Ab« 
fplon's Bong, appear to consist of four short lines, all rhyming together. 



102 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

That chauntetli thus under oure boure smal ? " 
And sche answerd hir housbond therwithal, 
** Yis, God woot, Johan, I heere it every del." 

This passeth fprth ; what wil ye bet than wel ? 3870 
Fro day to day this joly Absolon 
So woweth hire, that liim is wo-bigon. 
He waketh al the night and al the day, 
To kembe his lokkes brode and made him gay. 
He woweth hire by mene and by brocage, 
And swor he wolde ben hir owne page. 
He syngeth crowyng as a nightyngale ; 
And sent hire pyment, meth, and spiced ale, 
And wafres pypyng hoot out of the gleede ; 
And for sche was of toune, he profred meede. 3380 

For som folk wol be wonne for richesse, 
And som for strokes, som for gentillesse. 
Som tyme, to sche we his lightnes and maistrye, 
He pleyeth Herod on a scaffold hye. 
But what avayleth him as in this caas ? 
Sche so loveth this heende Nicholas, 
That Absolon may blowe the bukkes horn ; 
He ne had for al his labour but a skorn. 
And thus sche maketh Absolon hir ape. 
And al his ernest torneth to a jape. 3390 

Ful soth is this proverbe, it is no lye, 
Men seyn right thus alway, the ney slye 
Maketh the ferre leef to be loth. 
For though that Absolon be wood or wroth, 
By cause that he fer was from here sight. 
This Nicholas hath stonden in his light. 
Now here the wel, thou heende Nicholas, 
For Absolon may wayle and synge alias. 

And so bifelle it on a Satyrday 
This carpenter was gon to Osenay, 3400 

And heende Nicholas and Alisoun 

3367. smal. Tyrwhitt, with some Mss., reads boures wal. 

3378. crowyng. Some mss., with Tyrwhitt, have 5ro^•^•ingr, 

3378. pymtnt. Piment was a kind of spiced wine. Tyrwhitt B reading, 
pinnes, is certainly much inferior to the one in the text. 

3384. pleyeth Herod- Herod was a favorite part in the religious plays, ajul 
was perhaps an object of competition among the performers, and a part in 
which the actor endeavored to shew himself olf with advantage. Every 
reader knows Shakespeare's phrase of outheroding Herod. 

3387. bloioe the bukkes horn. I presume this was a service that generally 
went unrewarded. 

3391. this proverbe. The same proverb is found in Gower (Conf. Amnt 
lib. iii. f . 58)— 

An olde sawe is • who that is slygh 
In place wher he may be nj'giie, 
He maketh the lerre leef loth. 



THE MILLERES TALE. 103 



Acordid ben to this conclusioun, 

That Nicholas schal schapen hem a wyle 

This sely jelous housbond to begyle ; 

And if so were this game wente aright, 

Sche schulde slepe in his arm al night, 

For this was hire desir and his also. 

And right anoon, withouten wordes mo, _ 

This Nicholas no lenger wold he tarye, 

But doth ful softe into his chambur carye 3410 

Bothe mete and drynke for a day or tweye. 

And to hir housbond bad hir for to seye, 

If that he axed after Nicholas, 

Sche schulde seye, sche wiste nat wher he was ; 

Of al that day sche saw him nat with eye ; 

Sche trowed he were falle in som maladye, 

For no cry that hir mayden cowde him calle 

He nolde answere, for nought that may bifalle. 

Thus passeth forth al that ilke Satyrday, 
That Nicholas stille in his chambre lay, 3420 

And eet, and drank, and dede what him leste 
Til Soneday the sonne was gon to reste. 

This sely carpenter hath gret mervaile 
Of Nicholas, or what thing may him ayle, 
And seyde, " I am adrad, by seynt Thomas! 
It stondeth nat aright with Nicholas ; 
God schilde that he deyde sodeinly. 
This world is now ful tykel sikerly ; 
I saugh to-day a corps y-born to chirche. 
That now on Monday last I saugh him wirche. 3430 
Go up," quod he unto his knave, *' anoon ; 
Clepe at his dore, or knokke with a stoon ; 
Loke how it is, and telle me boldely." 
This knave goth him up ful sturdily. 
And at the chambir dore whil ne stood, 
He cryed and knokked as that he were wood ; 
*' What how ? what do ye, mayster Nicholay ? 
How may ye slepen al this longe day ? " 
But al for nought, he herde nat o word. • 

An hole he fond right lowe upon the boord, 34^0 

Ther as the cat was wont in for to creepe, 
And at that hole he loked in ful deepe, 
And atte laste he hadde of him a sight. 
This Nicholas sat ever gapyng upright, 
AS ne had loked on the newe moone. 
Adoun he goth, and tolde his mayster soone, 
in what aray he sawh this ilke man. 
Tbuib carpenter to blessen him bygan, 



I04 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And seyde, " Now help us, seynte Frideswyde ! 

A man woot litel what him schal betyde. 3450 

This man is falle with his astronomye 

In som woodnesse, or in some agonye. 

I thought ay wel how that it schulde be. 

Men schulde nought knowe of Goddes j^ryvyte. 

Ye, blessed be alwey a lewed man, 

That nat but oonly his bileeve can. 

So ferde another clerk with astronomye ; 

He walked in the feeldes for to prye 

Upon the sterres, what tlier schulde bifalle, 

Til he was in a marie pit i-falle. 3460 

He saugh nat that. But yet, by seint Thomas 1 

Me reweth sore for heende Nicholas ; 

He schal be ratyd of his stndyying, 

If that I may, by Jhesu heven kyng ! 

Gete me a staf, that I may underspore, 

Whil that thou, Robyn, hevest up the dore . 

He schal out of his studyyng, as I gesse." 

And to the chambir dore he gan him dresse. 

His knave was a strong karl for the noones, 

And by the hasp he haf it up at oones ; 3470 

And in the floor the dore fil doun anoon. 

This Nicholas sat stille as eny stoon. 

And ever he gapyd up-ward to the eyr. 

This carpenter wende he were in despeir, 

And hent him by the shuldres mightily, 

And schook him harde, and cryed spitously, 

" What, Nicholas ? what how, man ? loke adoun ; 

Awake, and thynk on Cristes passioun. 

I crowche the from elves and from wightes. 

Therwith the night-spel seyde he anon rightes, 3481 

On the foure halves of the hous aboute. 

And on the threisshfold of the dore withoute. 

Lord Jhesu Crist, and seynte Benedight, 

Blesse this hous from every wikkede wight, 

Fro nyghtes verray, the white Pater- noster ; 

Wher wonestow now, seynte Petres soster? " 

And atte laste, heende Nicholas 

Gan for to syke sore, and seyde, *' Alias ! 

Schal al the world be lost eftsones now ? " 

3449. seynte Frideswyde. This saint was appropriately invoked by the 
carpenter, as she was the patron of a rich monastic house at Oxford. 

3460. in a marie pit. This tale, told of Thales by Plato, was very popular in 
the middle ages, and is found under different forms in a variety of collections 
of stories. 

3485. verray. This is the reading of the Aiss. 1 have consulted. TrywLitt 
reads mare, which is perhaps right. 



THE MILLERES TALE. 105 



This carpenter answerde, " What seystow ? Tj-lOO 

What? thenk on God, as we doon, men that swinke." 

This Nicholas answerde, " Fette me drynke , 

And after wol I speke in pryvyte 

Of certeyn thing that toucheth the and me ; 

I wol telle it non other man certayn." 

This carpenter goth forth, and comth agayn, 

And brought of mighty ale a large quart. 

Whan ech of hem y-dronken had his part, 

This Nicholas his dore gan to schitte, 

And dede this carpenter doun by him sitte, 3500 

And seide, " Johan, myn host ful leve ;ind deere, 

Thou schalt upon thy trouthe swere me heere. 

That to no wight thou schalt this counsel wreye ; 

For it is Cristes counsel that I seye, 

And if thou telle it man, thou art forlore ; 

For this vengaunce thou schalt han therfore, 

That if thou wreye me, thou schalt be wood." 

" Nay, Crist forbede it for his holy blood ! " 

Quod tho this sely man, " I am no labbe. 

Though I it say, I am nought leef to gabbe. 3510 

Say what thou wolt, I schal it never telle 

To child ne wyf, by him that harwed helle ! " 

** Now, Johan," quod Nicholas, " I wol not lye : 
I have i-founde in myn astrologye. 
As I have loked in the moone bright, 
That now on Monday next, at quarter night, 
Schal falle a reyn, and that so Avilde and wood, 
That half so gret was never Noes flood. 
This word," he seyde, " more than an hour 
Schal ben i-dreynt, so hidous is the schour : 3520 

Thus schal mankynde drench, and leese his lyf." 
This carpenter answered, " Alias, my wyf ! 
And schal sche drenche ? alias, myn Alisoun ! " 
For sorwe of this he fel almost adoun, 
And seyde, " Is ther no remedy in this caas ?" 
** Why yis, for Gode," quod heende Nicholas ; 
*• If thou wolt werken aftir lore and reed ; 
Thou maist nought worke after thin owen heed. 
For thus seith Salomon, that was ful trewe, 
Werke by counseil, and thou schalt nat rewe. 3530 
And if thou worken wolt by good counsail, 
I undertake, withouten mast and sail, 

8512. him that harioed helle. Our Saviour. The harrowing of hell was a 
Tery popular legend among our forefathers, and found a place in most of the 
collections of mysteries, from which representations the lower orders obtained 
tlieir notions of Scripture history and theology. 



506 THE CANTERBURY TALE: 



Yet schal I saven hir, and the, and me. 

Hastow nat herd how saved was Noe, 

Whan that our Lord had warned him biforn, 

That al the world with watir schulde be lorn ? " 

** Yis," quod this carpenter, "ful yore ago." 

** Hastow nought herd," quod Nicholas, " also 

The sorwe of Noe with his felaschipe, 

That he hadde or he gat his wyf to schipe? 3540 

Him hadde wel lever. I dar wel undertake, 

At thilke tyme, than alle his wetheres blake, 

That sche hadde had a Gchip hirself allone. 

And therfore wostow what is best to doone ? 

This axeth hast, and of an hasty thing 

Men may nought preche or make taryyngk 

Anon go gete us fast into this in 

A knedyng trowh or elles a kemelyn, 

For ech of us ; but loke that they be large, 

In which that we may rows as in a barge, 3550 

And have therin vitaille sufflsant 

But for o day ; fy on the remenant ; 

The water schal aslake and gon away 

Aboute prime uppon the nexte day. 

But Robyn may not wite of this, thy knave, 

Ne ek thy mayde Gille I may not save ; 

Aske nought why ; for though thou aske me^ 

I wol nat tellen Goddes pryvete. 

Suflaceth the, but if that thy witt madde, 

To have as gret a grace as Noe hadde. 3560 

Thy wyf schal I wel saven out of doute. 

Go now thy wey, and speed the heer aboute ; 

And whan thou hast^for hir, and the, and me, 

I-goten us this knedyng tubbes thre, 

Than schaltthou hange hem in the roof ful hie. 

That no man of oure purveaunce aspye ; 

And whan thou thus hast doon as I have seyd. 

And hast oure vitaille faire in hem y-leyd, 

And eek an ax to smyte the corde a-two 

Whan that the water cometh, that we may goo, 3570 

And breke an hole an hye upon the gable 

Into the gardyn-ward over the stable, 

That we may frely passen forth oure way, 

Whan that the grete schour is gon away ; 

That schaltow swymme as mery, I undertake, 

3640. his toyf. According to a medieval legend, Noah's wife was unwlll> 
lug to go into the ark ; and the quarrel between ber and her husband makes 
& prominent part iu the play of Noah's Flood, and in the Chester and Towa9> 
ley Mysteries. 



TEE MILLERKS TALE. 107 



As doth the white doke aftir hir drake ; 

Than wol I clepe, How x\lisoun, how Jon, 

Beoth merye, for the flood passeth anon. 

And thou wolt seye, Heyl, maister Nicholay, 

Good morn, I see the wel, for it is day. 3580 

And than schiil we be lordes al oure lyf 

Of al the world, as Noe and his wyf. 

But of oo thing I warne the ful right. 

Be wel avysed of that ilke nyght, 

That we ben entred into schippes boord, 

That non of us ne speke not a word, 

Ne clepe ne crye, but be in his preyere, 

For it is Goddes owne heste deere. 

Thy wyf and thou most hangen fer a-twynne, 

For that bitwixe you schal be no synne, 3590 

No more in lokyng than ther schal in dede. 

This ordynaunce is seyd ; so God me speede. 

To morwe at night, whan men ben aslepe, 

Into our knedyng tubbes wol we crepe, 

And sitte ther, abydyng Goddes grace. 

Go now thy way, I have no lenger space 

To make oi this no lenger sermonyng ; 

Men seyn thus, send the wyse, and sey no thing ; 

Thou art so wys, it needeth nat the teche. 

Go, save oure 'lyf > and that I the byseche." 3600 

This seely carpenter goth forth his way, 
Ful ofte he seyd, " Alias, and weylaway I " 
And to his wyf he told his pryvete, 
And sche was war, and knew it bet than he, 
What al this queinte cast was for to seye. 
But natheles sche ferd as sche schuld deye, 
And seyde, " Alias ! go forth thy way anoon, 
Help us to skape, or we be ded echon. 
I am thy verray trewe wedded wyf ; 
Go, deere spouse, and help to save oure lyf. 3610 

Lo, which a gret thing is affeccioun I 
A man may dye for ymaginacioun, 
So deepe may impreesioun be take. 
This seely carpenter bygynneth quake ; 
Him thenketh verrayly that he may se 
Noes flood come walking as the see 
To drenchen Alisoun, his hony deere. 
He weepeth, wayleth, maketh sory cheere ; 
He siketh, with ful many a sory swough, 
And goth, and ge*eth him a knedyng trough, 8620 

3677. Jon. See, tuniier ou, liie uute ou 1. 40iii 



108 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And after that a tubbe, and a kymelyn, 

And pryvelyhe sent hem to his in, 

And heng hem in the roof in pryvete. 

His owne hond than made laddres thre, 

To clymben by the ronges and the stalkes 

Unto the tubbes hangyng in the balkes ; 

And hem vitayled, bothe trough and tubbe, 

With breed and cheese, with good ale in a jubbe, 

Suffisyng right ynough as for a day. 

But or that he had maad al this array, 8G30 

He sent his knave and eeli his wenche also 

Upon his neede to Londone for to go. 

And on the Monday, whan it drew to nyght, 

He schette his dore, withouten candel light, 

And dressed al this thing as it schuld be. 

And schortly up they clumben alle thre. 

They seten still e wel a forlong way : 

"Now, Paternoster, clum," quod Nicholay, 

And "clum," quod Jon, and "clum," quod Alisoun. 

This carpenter seyd his devocioun, 3640 

And stille he sitt, and byddeth his prayere, 

Ay waytyng on the reyn, if he it heere. 

The deede sleep, for verray busynesse, 

Fil on this carpenter, right as I gesse, 

Abowten courfew tyme, or litel more. 

For travail of his goost he groneth sore, 

And eft he routeth, for his heed myslay. 

Doun of the laddir stalketh Nicholay, 

And Alisoun ful softe adoun hir spedde. 

Withouten wordes mo they goon to bedde ; 3650 

Ther as the carpenter M^as wont to lye, 

Ther w^as the revel and the melodye. 

And thus lith Alisoun and Nicholas, 

In busynesse of myrthe and of solas, 

Til that the belles of laudes gan to rynge. 

And freres in the chauncel gan to synge. 

This parissch clerk, this amerous Absolon, 
That is for love so harde and woo bygon, 
Upon the Monday was at Osenay 

With company, him to desporte and play ; 3660 

And axed upon caas a cloysterer 
Ful pryvely after the carpenter ; 
And he dro* gh him ctpart out of the chirche, 
And sayde, "Nay, I say him nat here wirche 

3655. helles of laudes. The service of Laudes or Matins began at three 
o'clock in th*5 morning. The bell was naturally rung a little before, and per- 
kaj>8 began at half-past two. 



wftm 



THE MILLERES TALE. 109 

Syn Satirday ; I trow that he be went 

For tymbei-, ther our abbot hath him sent. 

For ho is wont for tymber for to goo, 

And dwellen at the Graunge a day or tuo. 

Or elles he is at his hous certayn. 

Wher that he be, I can nat sothly sayn." 3670 

This Absolon ful joly was and light, 
And though te, *' Now is tyme wake al night, 
For sikerly 1 sawh him nought styryng 
Aboute his dore, syn day bigan to spryng. 
So mote I thryve, I schal at cokkes crowe 
Ful pryvely go knokke at his wyndowe, 
That stant ful lowe upon his boAvres wal ; 
To Ahsoun than wol I tellen al 
My love-long^'ng ; for yet I schal not mysse 
That atte leste wey I schal hir kisse. 3C80 

Som maner comfort schal I have, parfay 1 
My mouth hath icched al this longe day ; 
That is a signe of kissyng atte leste. 
Al nyght I mette eek I was at a feste. 
Therfore I wol go slepe an hour or tweye, 
And al the night than wol I Avake and pleye." 
Whan that the firste cok hath crowe, anoon 
Up ryst this jolyf lover Absolon, 
And liim arrayeth gay, at poynt devys. 
But tirst he cheweth greyn and lycoris, 3690 

To smellen swete, or he hadde kempt his heere. 
Under his tunge a trewe love he beere, 
For therby wende he to be gracious. 
He rometh to the carpenteres hous. 
And stille he stant under the schot wyndowe ; 
Unto his brest it raught, it was so lowe ; 
And softe he cowhith with a semysoun : 
*' What do ye, honycomb, swete Alisoun ? 
My fayre bryd, my swete cynamome, 
Awake, lemman myn, and speketh to me. 8700 

Ful litel thynke ye upon my wo, 
That for youre love I swelte ther I go. 
No wonder is if that I swelte and swete, 
I morne as doth a lamb after the tete- 
I-wis, lemman, I have such love-longyng, 
That like a turtil trewe is my moornyngc 

36^8. the Graunge. The abbeys had geuerally large prances atlachc;d to 
their more cousiderable estates, erected with so inuoh atfcngtli that many of 
tJiem have outlived the raoiiasterios themselves. Tlie distance of some <f the 
estates from the abbey would naturally oblige thoP'^ who went on bu^iiKf^ to 
3tay a day or two away. 

3690. qreyn. Grains of Paris, or Paradise • a favorite spice at this peiiy<L 



ilO THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

I may not ete more than a mayde/' 

** Go fro the wyndow, jakke fool," sch« sayde ', 
** As help me God, it wol not be, comparae. 
(I love another, and elles were I to blame, 3710 

Wei bet than the, by Jhesu, Absolon. 
Go forth thy wey, or I wol cast a stoon ; 
And lete me slepe, a twenty devel way I " 
*' Alias I " quod Absolon, '* and weylaway I 
That trewe love was ever so ylle bysett ; 
Thanne kisseth me, syn it may be no bett, 
For Jesus love, and for the love of me." 
" Wilt thou than go thy wey therwith? " quod sclie. 
"Ye, certes, lemman," quod this Absolon. 
" Than mak the redy," quod sche, " 1 come anon." 
This Absolon doun s.ette him on his knees, 3721 

And seide, *' I am a lord at alia degrees ; 
For after this I hope ther cometh more ; 
Lemman, thy graco, and, swete bryd, thyn ore." 
The wyndow sche undyd and that in hast ; 
" Have doon," quod sche, " com of, and speed the fast, 
Lest that our neygheboures the aspye." 
This Absolon gan wipe his mouth ful drye. 
Derk was the night as picche or as a cole, 
Out atte wyndow putte sche hir hole t S730 

And Absolon him fel no bet ne wers, 
But with his mouth he kist hir naked ers 
Ful savorly. Whan he was war of this, 
Abak he sterte, and thought it was amys, 
For wel he wist a womman hath no herd. 
He felt a thing al rough and long i-herd, 
And seyde, *' Fy, alias ! what have I do ? " 
*' Te-hee ! " quod sche, and clapt the wyndow to ; 
And Absolon goth forth a sory paas. 
*' A herd, a herd 1 " quod heende Nicholas ; 3740 

" By Goddes corps, this game goth fair and wel." 
This seely Absolon herd every del, 
And on his lippe he gan for angir byte ; 
And to himself he seyde, " I schal the quyte." 

Who rubbith now, who froteth now his lippes 
With dust, with sand, with straw, with cloth, with 

chippes, 
But Absolon ? that seith ful ofte, *' Alias, 
My soule bytake I unto Sathanas ! 
But me were lever than alle this toun," quod he, 
" Of this dispit awroken for to be. 3750 

Alias I " quod he, " alias ! I nadde bleynti " 
His hoote love was cold, and al i-queint. 



THE MIILERES TALE. Ill 

For fro that tyme that he had kist her ers, 

Of paramours ne sette he nat a kers, 

For he was helyd of his maledye ; 

Ful ofte paramours he gan deffye, 

And wept as doth a child that is i-bete. 

A softe paas went he over the strete 

Unto a smyth, men clepith daun Gerveys, 

Tliat in his forge smythed plowh-harneys ; 3760 

He scharpeth schar and cultre bysily. 

This Absolon knokketh al esily, 

And seyde, " Undo, Gerveys, and that anoon." 

" What, who art thou ? " " It am I Absolon." 

*' What ? Absolon, what ? Cristes swete tree I 

Why ryse ye so rethe ? henedicite, 

What eyleth you ? some gay gurl, God it woot, 

Hath brought you thus upon the verytrot ; 

By seinte Noet ! ye wot wel what I mene." 

This Absolon ne roughte nat a bene 3770 

Of al his pleye, no word agayn he gaf ; 

For he hadde more tow on his distaf 

Than Gerveys knew, and seyde, — " Freend su deere, 

That bote cultre in the chymney heere 

As lene it me, I have therwith to doone ; 

I wol it bring agayn to the ful soone." 

Gerveys answerde, " Certes, were it gold, 

Or in a poke nobles al untold. 

Ye schul him have, as I am trewe smyth. 

Ey, Cristes fote ! what wil ye do therwith ? " 3780 

•' Therof," quod Absolon, " be as be may ; 

I schal wel telle it the to morwe day ; " 

And caughte the cultre by the colde stele. 

Ful soft out at the dore he gan it stele, 

And wente unto the carpenteres wal. 

He cowheth first, and knokketh therwithal 

Upon the wyndow, right as he dede er. 

This Alisoun answerde, *' Who isther 

That knokkest so ? I warant it a theef." 3789 

" Why nay," quod he, "God woot, my sweete leef, 

I am thyn Absolon, o my derlyng. 

Of goM," quod he, " I have the brought a ryng ; 

3767. gay gurl. This appears to have been a common phrase for a >ouii).j 
woman of light manners. In the time of Henry VIII. the lady Anne Berk- 
eley, dissatished with the conduct of her daughter-in-law, lady Catherine 
Howard, is reported to have t^aid of her : "By God's blessed sacrament, this 
gay girle will beggar my eon Henry t " 

3763. seinte Noet. St. Neot. 

3772. tow on his distaf. This seems to have been a common proverb of the 
time. Tyrwhitt quotes from Froissart, " II aura eu bref temps autre 
eetoupes tiu sa queiiille." 



112 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

My mooder gaf it me, so Grod me save t 

Ful fyn it is, and therto wel i-grave j 

This wol I give the, if thou me kisse." 

This Nicholas was rise for to pysse, 

And thought he wold amenden al the jape, 

He schulde kisse his ers or that he skape. 

And up the wyndow dyde he hastily. 

And out his ers putteth he pryvely 3800 

Over the buttok, to the haunche bon. 

And therwith spak this clerk, this Absolon, 

" Spek, sweete bryd, I wot nat wher thou art.'* 

This Nicholas anon let flee a fart, 

As gret as it had ben a thundir dent, 

And with that strook he was almost i-blent ; 

And he was redy with his yren hoot, 

And Nicholas amid the ers he smoot. 

Of goth the skyn an hande-brede aboute, 

The hoote cultre brente so his toute ; 3810 

And for the smert he wende for to dye ; 

As he were wood, anon he gan to crye, 

" Help, watir, watir, help, for Goddes herte ! " 

This carpenter out of his slumber sterte, 

And herd on crye watir, as he wer wood, 

And thought, '* Alias, now cometh Noes flood ! " 

He sit him up withoute wordes mo. 

And with his ax he smot the corde a-two ; 

And douii he goth ; he fond nowthir to sella 

No breed ne ale, til he com to the selle 

Upon the floor, and ther aswoun he lay. 

Up styrt hir Alisoun, and Nicholay, 

And cryden, " out and harrow ! " in the strete. 

The neyghebours bothe smal and grete 

In ronnen, for to gauren on this man, 

That yet aswowne lay, bothe pale and wan ; 

For with the fal he brosten had his arm. 

But stond he muste to his owne harm, 

For whan he spak, he was anon born doun 

With heende Nicholas and Alisoun. S830 

They tolden every man that he was wood ', 

He was agast and feerd of Noes flood 

Thurgh fantasie, that of his vanite 

He hadde i-bought him knedyng tubbes thre, 

And hadde hem hanged in the roof above ; 

And that he preyed hem for Goddes love 

3819. to selle. So in the fabliau of Aloul, in Barbazan, 1. 591. 
Qu'ainc tant corae il mist k deseeudre 
Ne irova point de pain k veudre. 



THE PROLOGE OF THE REEVE, 113 

To sitten in the roof par campaignye. 
The folk gan lawhen at his fantasye ; 
Into the roof they kyken, and they gape, 
And torne al his harm into a jape. 3840 

For whatsoever the carpenter answerde, 
It was for nought, no man his resoun herde, 
With othis greet he was so sworn adoun, 
That he was holden wood in al the toun. 
For every clerk anon right heeld with othir ; 
They seyde, "The man was wood, myleeve brother ;" 
And every man gan lawhen at his stryf 
Thus swyved was the carpenteres wyf 
For al his kepyng and his gelousye ; 
And Absolon hath kist hir nethir ye ; 3850 

And Nicholas is skaldid in his towte. 
This tale is doon, and God save al the route. 

THE PROLOGE OF THE REEVE. 

"Whak^ folk hadde lawhen of this nyce caas 
Of Absolon and heende Nicholas, 
Dyverse folk dyversely they seyde, 
But for the moste part they lowh and pleyde ; 
Ne at this tale I sawh no man him greve, 
But it were oonly Osewald the Reeve. 
Bycause he was of carpentrye craft, 
A litel ire in his herte is laft ; 3860 

He gan to grucche and blamed it a lite. 
** So theek," quod he, " ful wel coude I the quyte 
With bleryng of a prowd mylleres ye, 
If that me luste speke of ribaudye. 
But yk am old ; me list not pley for age ; 
Gras tyme is doon, my foddir is now forage. 
My whyte top writeth myn olde yeeres ; 
Myn hert is al so moulyd as myn heeres ; 
But yit I fare as doth an open-ers ; 
That ilke fruyt is ever lengerthe wers, 3870 

Til it be rote in mullok or in stree. 
We olde men, I drede, so fare we, 
Til we be roten, can we nat be rype ; 
We hoppen aiway, whil the world wol pype ; 
For in oure wil ther stiketh ever a nayl, 
To have an hoor heed and a greene tayl, 
As hath a leek ; for though oure might be doon, 
Oure wil desireth folye ever in oon ; 
For whan we may nat do, than wol we speke, 
Yet in oure aisshen old is fyr i-reke. 3880 

8 



114 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Foure gledys have we, which I schal devyse, 

Avanting, lyyng, angiir, covey tise. 

This foure sparkys longen untc *eide. 

Oure olde lymes mowen be unweelde, 

But wil ne schal nat fayle us, that is soth. 

And yet I have alwey a coltes toth, 

As many a yeer as it is passed henne, 

Syn that my tappe of lyf bygan to renne. 

For sikirhk, whan I was born, anon 

Deth drough the tappe of lyf, and leet it goon ; 3890 

And now so longe hath the tappe i-ronne, 

Til that almost al empty is the tonne. 

The streem of lyf now droppeth on the cliymbe. 

The sely tonge may wel rynge and ehimbe 

Of wrecchednes, that passed is ful yoore : 

With olde folk, sauf dotage, is no more." 

Whan that oure Host had herd this sermonyng, 
He gan to speke as lordly as a kyng, 
And seyde, " What amounteth al this wit ? 
What ? schul we speke al day of holy wryt ? 3 900 

The devyl made a reve for to preche, 
Or of a sowter a schipman or a leche. 
Sey forth thi tale, and tarye nat the tyme : 
Lo heer is Depford, and it is passed prime ; 
Lo Grenewich, ther many a schrewe is inne ; 
It were al tyme thi tale to bygynne." 

** Now, sires," quod tliis Osewold the Reeve, 
'* I pray yow alle, that noon of you him greeve, 
Though I answere, and somwhat sette his howve, 
For leeful is with force force to schowve. 3910 

3902. Ex sutore nauclerus and ex sutore medicus were both popular proverbs, 
and aro found in medieval Latin writers. 

3904. passed prime. Tyrwliitt reads half-way prime, and observes, " In the 
discourse, &c., § xiv., I liave supposed that this means /^a// past /)rme, about 
half an hour after seven a.m., the half way between i'rime and Terce. In 
the fictitious Modus tenendi parliamentum, a book not much older than Chau- 
cer, hora medice primce seems to be used in the same sense, c. de diebus et 
horis parliamenti. Ms. Cotton. Nero. D. vi. On common days Parliamen- 
tum debet inclioari hora medife primaj — in diebus fcstivis hora prima propter 
divinum servitum. In a contemporary French translation of this treatise, 
Ms. Harl. 305, hora mediae prima', is rendered a la my heure le prime ; in an 
old English version, Ms. Harl. 930, the oure of myd pryvie ; and in another, 
Ms. Harl. 1309, middle prime time. Our author uses prime large, ver. 10,674, 
to signify that prime was considerably past." 

3909. sette his howve. The same as set his cap. See 1. 588. 

The Beeves Tale. This was a vei-y popular story in the middle ages, and is 
found under several different forms. It occurs frequently in the jest and 
story books of the sixteenth andsevcnteentb centuries. Boccacio has given 
it in the Decameron, evidently from a fabliau, which has been printed in 
Barbazan under the title of I)e Gcmbert et des deux clers. Chaucer took the 
story from another fabliau which I have printed and first pointed out to 
notice in my Anecdola Liteiana, p. 15. 



THE REEVES TALE. 115 



This dronken Myllere hath i-tolde us heer, 

Ilow that bygiled was a carpenter, 

Pera venture in scorn, for I am oon ; 

And by your leve, I schal him quyte anoon. 

Right in his cherles termes wol I speke ; 

I pray to God his nekke mot to-breke ! 

He can wel in myn eye see a stalke, 

But in his owne he can nought seen a balke." 



THE REEVES TALE. 

At Trompyngtoun, nat fer fro Cantebrigge, 
Ther goth a brock, and over that a brigge, 3920 

Upon the whiche brook ther stant a melle : 
And this is verray sothe that I you telle. 
A meller was ther dwellyng many a day 
As eny pecok he was prowd and gay ; 
Pipen he coude, and fisshe, and nettys beete, 
And turne cuppes, wrastle wel, and scheete. 
Ay by his belt he bar a long panade, 
And of a swerd ful trenchaunt was the blade. 
A joly popper bar he in his pouche ; 
Ther was no man for perel durst him touche. 3930 

A Scheffeld thwitel bar he in his hose. 
Round was his face, and camois was his nose. 
As pyled as an ape was his skulle. 
He was a market-beter at the fulle. 
Ther durste no wight hand upon him legge. 
That he ne swor anon he schuld abegge. 

A theef he was for soth of corn and mele. 
And that a sleigh, and usyng for to stele. 
His name was hoote deynous Symekyn. 
A wyf he hadde, come of noble kyn ; 3940 

The persoun of the toun hir fader was. 
With hire he gaf ful many a panne of bras, 
For that Symkyn schuld in his blood allye. 
Sche was i-fostryd in a nonnerye ; 
For Smykyn wolde no wyf, as he sayde, 
But sche were wel i-norissched and a mayde, 
To saven his estaat and yomanrye. 
And sche was proud and pert as is a pye. 
A ful fair sighte was ther on hem two ; 
On haly dayes bifore hir wolde he go 3950 

With his typet y-bounde aboute his heed ; 
And sche cam aftir in a gyte of reed, 
And Symkyn hadde hosen of the same. 



116 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Ther durste no wight clepe hir but madame ; 

Was noon so hardy walkyng by the weye. 

That with hir dorste rage or elles pleye, 

But if he wold be slayn of Symekyn 

With panade, or with knyf, or boydekyn ; 

For gelous folk ben perilous everemo, 

Algate they wolde here wyves wende so. 3960 

And eok for sche was somdel smoterlich, 

Bche was as deyne as water in a dich, 

As f ul of hokir, and of bissemare. 

Hir thoughte ladyes oughten hir to spare^ 

What for hir kynreed and hir norteli-ye, 

That sche had lerned in the nonnerye. 

O doughter hadden they betwix hem two, 

Of twenti yeer, withouten eny mo, 

Savyng a child that was of half yer age, 

In cradil lay, and was a proper page. 3970 

This wenche thikke and wel i-growen was, 

With camoys nose, and eyghen gray as glas ; 

And buttokkes brode, and brestes round and hye. 

But right fair was hir heer, I wol nat lye. 

The person n of the toun, for sche was feir, 

In purpos was to maken hir his heir, 

Bothe of his catel and his mesuage, 

And straunge made it of hir mariage. 

Ilis purpos was to bystow hir hye 

Into som worthy blood of ancetrye ; 3980 

For holy chirche good moot be despendid 

On holy chirche blood that is descendid. 

Therfore he wolde his joly blood honoure, 

Though that he schulde holy chirclie devoure. 

Gret soken hath this meller, out of doute, 
With whete and malt, of al the lond aboute ; 
And namely ther was a gret collegge, 
Men clepe it the Soler-halle of Cantebregge 
Ther was here whete and eek here malt i-grounde. 
And on a day it happed in a stounde, 3990 

Syk lay the mauncyple on a maledye. 
Men wenden wisly that he schulde dye ; 

3954. madame. In the deecription of the nun (1. 378), who also prided her* 
Belf upon her gentility, Chaucer says,— 

It is right fair for to be clept madame, 
And for to go to vigiles al byfore. 

3988. the Soler-halle. There was a tradition in the University of Cam- 
bridge, at least as early as the time of Caius, ami ii may psrhaps be correct, 
that the college alluded to by Chaucer was Clare Hall. See Caius, HisL. Acad, 
p. 57, and Fuller's Hist, of the Univ. of Camb. p. S6 fed. 1840). The name 
Soler-halle, of course, means the hall with the soler or upper story, which, as 
Warton observes, would be a auificieut marK, of uiuUnctiou iu early times. 



THE REEVES TALE. li' 



For which this meller stal bothe mele and corn 

A thousend part more than byforn. 

For ther biforn he stal but curteysly ; 

But now he is a theef outrageously. 

i or which the wardeyn chidde and made fare, 

But therof sette the meller not a tare ; 

He crakked boost, and swor it was nat so. 

Thanne weren there poore scoleres tuo, 4000 

That dwelten in the halle of which I seye ; 

Testyf they were, and lusty for to pleye ; 

And, oonly for here mirthe and revelrye 

Uppon the wardeyn bysily they crye, 

To geve hem leve but a litel stound 

To go to melle and see here corn i-grounde ; 

And hardily they dursten ley here nekke, 

The meller schuld nat stel hem half a pekke 

Of corn by sleigh te, ne by force hem reve. 

And atte last the wardeyn gaf hem leve. 4010 

Johan hight that oon, and Alayn hight that other ; 

Of o toun were they born that highte Strothir, 

Fer in the North, 1 can nat telle where. 

This Aleyn maketh redy al his gere. 

And on an hors the sak he cast anoon : 

Forth goth Aleyn the clerk, and also Jon, 

With good swerd and with bocler by her side. 

Johan knew the way, that hem needith no gyde ; 

And at the my He the sak adoun he layth. 40:^0 

Alayn spak first : *' Al heil ! Syuiond, in faith 

How fares thy faire doughter and thy wyf ? " 

*' Alayn, welcome," quod Symond, " by my lyf ! 

And Johan also ; how now ! what do ye here ?" 

"By God!" quod Johan, "Symond, neede has na 

peere. 
Ilim falles serve himself that has na swayn, 
Or elles he is a fon, as clerkes sayn. 
Oure mancyple, as I hope, wil be deed, 
Swa werkes ay the wanges in his heed : 
And therfore I is come, and eek Alayn, 
To grynde oure corn, and carie it ham ageyn. 40 jO 

4011. Johan. This is the correct form of the name, the a being generally 
indicated by a dash on the upper limb oi the h. I n the manuscript from w hicb 
our text is taken, the contraction is sometimes written Johan, John, as Tyr 
whitt prints it, is a much more modern orthography. Where the name is re 
quired to be a monosyllable, it is here spelt Jon, probably an abbreviation of 
familiarity, as Tom and the like. 

iul2. Strothir. This was the valley of Langstroth, or Langstrothdale, ir 
the West Riding of Yorkshire, as pointed out by Dr. Whitaker Hist, of Cra 
ven, p. 493. I am informed that the dialect of this district may be recoguize4 
in the phraseology of Chaucer's *' scoleres tuo." 



118 THE CANTERBURY TALES 

I prey you speed us in al that ye may.' 

" It schal be doon," quod Syiiikyn, " by my fay ! 

What wol ye do whil that it is in hande ? " 

** By God ! right by the hoper wol I stande," 

Quod Johan, " and se how that the corn gas inne. 

Yet sawh I never, by my fader kynne ! 

How that the hoper waggis to and fra." 

Aleyn answerde, " Johan, and wiltow swa ? 

Than wol I be bynethe, by my croun ! 

And se how that the mele fallys doun i040 

Into the trough, that schal be my desport ; 

For, Jon, in faith, I may be of your sort, 

I is as ille a meller as ere ye." 

This mellere smyleth for here nycete, 

And thought, " Al this is doon but for a wyle ; 

They wenen that no man may hem bigile. 

But, by my thrift, yet schal I blere here ye, 

For al "here sleight and al here philosophie ; 

The more queynte knakkes that they make, 

The more wol I stele whan I take. 4050 

In stede of mele, yet wol I geve hem bren. 

The grettest clerks beth not the wisest men, 

As whilom to the wolf thus spak the mare ; 

Of al her art ne counte I nat a tare." 

Out at the dore he goth ful pryvyly, 

Whan that he saugh his tyme sotyly ; 

He loketh up and doun, til he hath founde 

The clerkes hors, ther as it stood i-bounde 

Behynde the mylle, under a levesel ; 

And to the hors he goth him faire and wel. 4060 

He strepeth of the bridel right anoon. 

And whan the hors was loos, he gan to goon 

Toward the fen there wilde mares renne, 

Forth with *' wi-he ! " thurgh thikke and eek thurgh 

thenne. 
This meller goth agayn, and no word seyde. 
But doth his note, and with the clerkes pleyde, 

4053. the wolf. Tlie fable of the Wolf and the Mare is found in the Latin 
Esopean collections, and in the early French poem of Renard le Contrefait, 
from whence it appears to have been taken into the English Reynard the 
Fox. In Renard le Contrefait the wolf utters a similar sentiment (though 
differently expressed) to that in Chaucer,— 

Or voi-ge bien tout en apert 
Que clergie bien sa saison pert ; 
Aucunes foiz vilain queaignent 
Es leu8 ou le clerc se mehaignent. 



Ge ne fis mie grant savoir, 
Quant ge vouloie clers devenir. 



TEE REEVES TALE. 119 

Til that her corn was fair and wel i-grounde. 

And whan the mele was sakked and i-bounde, 

This Johan goth out, and fynt his hors away, 

And gan to crye, *' Harrow and weylaway I 4070 

Oure hors is lost ! Aleyn, for Goddes banes, 

Step on thy feet, cum on, man, al at anes. 

Alias ! our wardeyn hath his palfray lorn ! " 

This Aleyn al forgeteth mele and corn, 

Al was out of his mynd his housbondrye ; 

" What wikked way is he gan? " gan he crye. 

The wyf cam lepyng in-ward with a ren, 

Sche seyde, '* Alias ! your hors goth to the fen 

With wylde mares, as fast as he may go ; 

Unthank come on his heed that band him so, 4080 

And he that bettir schuld han knyt the reyne ! " 

** Alias ! " quod Johan, " Aleyn, for Cristes peyne I 

Leg doun thi swerd, and I sal myn alswa ; 

I is ful wight, God wat, as is a ra ; 

By Goddes hart ! he sal nat scape us bathe. 
Why nad thou put the capil in the lathe ? 

II hail, Aleyn, by God ! thou is a fon ! " 
This sely clerkes speeden hem anoon 
Toward the fen, bothe Aleyn and eek Jon. 

And whan the myller sawh that they were gon, 4090 

He half a busshel of the flour hath take. 

And bad his wyf go knede it in a cake. 

He seyde, " I trowe the clerkes ben aferd ! 

Yet can a miller make a clerkes herd, 

For al his art ; ye, lat him go here way ! 

Lo wher they goon 1 ye, lat the children play ; 

They get hym nat so lightly, by my croun ! " 

This seely clerkes ronnen up and doun, 

With " Keep ! keep ! stand ! stand 1 jossa, ware derere I 

Ga wightly thou, and I sal keep him heere.' 4100 

But schortly, til that it was verray night. 

They cowde nat, though they did al here might, 

Here capil cacche, it ran away so fast, 

Til in a diche they caught him atte last. 

Wery and wete as bestys in the reyn, 

Comth sely Johan, and with him comtli Aleyn. 

" Alias ! " quod Johan, " that day that I was born I 

Now are we dryve til hethyng and to scorn. 

Oure corn is stole, men woln us foles calle. 

Bathe the wardeyn and eek our felaws alle, 4110 

4094. TAake a clerkes herd. . A proverbial phrase taken from the French, 
faire la barbe a qrielqu^un. It occurs again further ou, 1. 5943. 



\'20 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And namely the myller, weyloway 1 ' ' 

Thus pleyneth Johan, as he goth by the way 

Toward the mylle, and Bayard in his hand. 

The myller sittyng by the fyr he fand, 

For it was night, and forther might they nought, 

But for the love of God they him bisought 

Of herberwh and of ese, as for her peny. 

The myller sayd agayn, " If ther be eny, 

Swich as it is, yit schul ye have your part. 

Myn hous is streyt, but ye han lerned art ; 41 ^U 

Ye conne by argumentes make a place 

A myl brood of twenty foote of space. 

Let se now if this jjlace may suffyse, 

Or make it rom with speche, as is your gyse." 

"Now, Symond," seyde this Johan> " by sevnt Ciitii- 

herd ! 
Ay is thou mery, and that is fair answerd. 
I have herd say, men suld take of twa thinges, 
Slik as he fynt, or tak slik as he bringes. 
But specially I pray the, host ful deere. 
Get us som mete and drj'-nk, and mak us cheere, 4ii5(J 
And we wol paye trewly at the fuile ; 
With empty hand men may na hawkes tulle. 
Lo heer our silver redy for to spende." 
This meller into toun his doughter sende 
For ale and breed, and rosted hem a goos. 
And band her hors, he scliold no more go loos ; 
And in his owne chambir hem made a bed. 
With schetys and with chalouns fair i-spred, 
Nat from his owen bed ten foot or twelve. 
His doughter has a bed al by hirselve, 4140 

Right in the same chambre by and by ; 
It mighte be no bet, and cause why 
Ther was no rommer herberw in the place. 
They sowpen, and they speken of solace, 
And dronken ever strong ale atte beste. 
Aboute mydnyght wente they to reste. 
Wei hath the myller vernysshed his heed, 
Ful pale he was, for-dronken, and nat reed ; 
He yoxeth, and he speketh thurgh the nc>se, 
As he were on the quakke or on the pose. 415« 

To bed he goth, and with him goth his wyf, 
As eny jay sche light was and jolyf, 
So was hir joly whistel wel y-wet ; 
The cradil at hire beddes feet is set, 

4132. with empty hand. Couf. 1. 5997, where the proverb is given somo 
what differently. 



THE REEVES TALE 121 



To rokken, and to give the child to souke. 

And whan that dronken was al in the cronke; 

To bedde went the donghter right anon ; 

To bedde goth Aleyn, and also Jon, 

Ther nas no more, him needeth no dwale. 

This uieller hath so wysly bibbed ale, 4160 

That as an hors he snortith in his sleep, 

Ne of his tayl bihynd took he no keep. 

His wyf bar him a burdoun, a ful strong, 

Men might her rowtyng heeren a forlong. 

The wenche routeth eek par companye. 

Aleyn the clerk, that herd this melodye. 

He pokyd Johan, and seyde, " Slepistow ? 

Herdistow ever slik a sang er now ? 

Lo, slik a conplyng is betwix hem alle, 

A wilde fyr upon thair bodyes falle ! 4170 

Wha herkned ever swilk a ferly thing? 

Ye, thei sul have the flour of ille endyng I 

This lange night ther tydes me na rest. 

But yet na fors, al sal be for the best. 

For Johan," sayd he, " as ever mot I thryve, 

If that I may, yone wenche sal I swy ve. 

Som esement hath la we schapen us ; 

For Johan, ther is a lawe that says thus, 

That if a man in a point be agreved, 

That in another he sal be releeved. 4180 

Oure corn is stoln, sothly, it is na nay, 

And we have had an ylle fitt to day ; 

And syn I sal have nan amendement 

Agayn my los, I wol have esement. 

By Groddes sale ! it sal nan other be." 

This Johan answerd, " Aleyn, avyse the ; 

The miller is a perlous man," he sa^de, 

" And if that he out of his sleep abrayde, 

He mighte do us bothe a vilonye." 

Aleyn answerd, " I count it nat a flye ! " 4190 

And up he roos, and by the wenche he crept 3. 

This wenche lay upright and faste slepte, 

Til he so neili was or sche might aspye 

That it had ben to late for to crye. 

And schortly for to seye, they weren at oon. 

Now pley, Alein, for I wol sjDeke of Jon. 

This Johan lith stille a forlong whyle or two, 
And to himself compleyned of his woo. 
*' Alias ! " quod he, " this is a wikked jape ; 

4179. A marginal note in the MS. says,— Qui in uno gravatur, in alio debet 



rQlevari. 



122 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Now may I say that I am but an ape. 4200 

Yet hath my felaw somwhat for his harm ; 

He hath the myllers doughter in his arm ; 

He auntred him, and has his needes sped, 

And I lye as a draf-sak in my bed ; 

And when this jape is tald another day, 

I sal be hald & daf; a cokenay. 

Unhardy is unsely, as men saith. 

I wol arise, and auntre it, in good faith." 

And up he ros, and softely he wente 

Unto the cradil, and in his hand it hente, 4210 

And bar it softe unto his beddis feet. 

Soone after this the wyf hir routyng leet, 

And gan awake, and went hir forth to pisse. 

And cam agayn, and gan hir cradel mysse, 

And groped heer and ther, but sche fond noon. 

** Alias ! " quod sche, *' I had almost mysgoon j 

I had almost goon to the clerkes bed, 

Ey, henedioite ! than had I foule i-sped ! " 

And forth sche goth, til sche the cradil faud. 

Sche gropith alway forther with hir hand, 4220 

And fand the bed, and thoughte nat but good, 

Bycause that the cradil by it stood, 

Nat knowyng wher sche was, for it was derk ; 

But faire and wel sche creep in to the clerk, 

And lith ful stille, and \volde han caught a sleep. 

Withinne a while Johan the clerk up leep, 

And on this goode wy: leyth on ful sore ; 

So mery a fytt ne hadd sche nat ful yore. 

He priketh harde and deepe, as he were mad 

This joly lyf han this twey clerkes had, 42-30 

Til that the thridde cok bygan to synge. 

Aleyn wax wery in the dawenynge. 

For he had swonken al the longe night, 

And seyd, *' Farwel, Malyn, my sweete wight I 

The day is come, I may no lenger byde ; 

But evermo, wher so I go or ryde, 

1 am thin owen clerk, so have I seel ! " 

" Now, deere lemman," quod sche, " go, farwel ! 

But or thou go, o thing I wol the telle : 

Whan that thou wendist hom-ward by the melle, i j40 

Right at the entre of the dore byhynde 

Thou schalt a cake of half a busshel fynde. 

That was i-maked of thyn owen mele, 

Which that I hilp myn owen self to stele. 

And, goode lemman, God the save and kepe ! '^ 

And with that word almost sche gan to weepe. 



THE REEVES TALE. 123 



Aleyn uprist, and thought, " Er that it dawe 
I wol go crepen in by my felawe ; " 
And fand the cradll with his hand anon. 
** By God ! " thought he, *' al wrong I have i-goon. 
My heed is toty of my swynk to nyght 4251 

That makes me that I ga nought aright. 
I wet wel by the cradel I have mysgo ; 
Heer Kth the myller and his wyf also." 
Forth he goth in twenty devel way 
Unto the bed, ther as the miller lay. 
He wende have crope by his felaw Jon, 
And by the myller in he creep anon, 
And caught him by the nekke, and soft he spak. 
And seyde, *' Jon, thou swyneshed, awak, 4260 

For Cristes sowle ! and here a noble game ; 
For, by that lord that cleped is seynt Jame, 
As I have thries in this schorte night 
Swyved the myllers doughter bolt upright, 
Whiles thou hast as a coward ben agast." 
''Ye, false harlot," quod this mellere, " hast r 
A ! false traitour, false clerk ! " quod he, 
" Thou schalt be deed, by Goddes dignite ! 
Who durste be so bold to disparage 
My doughter, that is come of hih lynage ? " 427G 

And by the throte-bolle he caught Aleyn, 
And he hent him dispitously ageyn. 
And on the nose he smot him with his fest. 
Doun ran the bloody streem upon his brest ; 
And in the floor with nose and mouth to-broke 
They walweden as pigges in a poke ; 
And up they goon, and doun they goon anon 
Til that the millner stumbled at a ston, 
And doun he felle bakward on his wyf, 
That wyste nothing of this nyce stryf ; 4280 

For sche was falle asleepe a litel wight 
With Jon the clerk, that waked ai the night. 
And with the falle right out of slepe sche brayde. 
•' Help, holy croys of Bromholme ! " sche sayde, 
** In manus tuas, Lord, to the I calle I 
AM'ake, Symond, the feend is in thin halle ! 
My hert is broken 1 help ! I am but deed ! 
Ther lythe upon my wombe and on niyn heed. 

4284. holy croys of Bromholme. Portions of the real cross were said to 
compose the cros'b of the priory of Bromholme, in Norfolk, brought into Eng- 
land with great cereinony in lli23, and thenceforth an extraordinarily popular 
object of pilgrimage. ' By the cross (or rood) of Bromholme ! ' seems to have 
been a very common formula of swearing, and is found in the Piers Ploiigh- 
soau, and elsewhere. 



124 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Help, Symkyn ! for this false clerkes fight." 

This Johan stert up as fast as ever he might, 4390 

And grasped by the walles to and fro, 

To fynde a staf ; and sche sturt up also, 

And knewe the estres bet than dede Jon, 

And by the wal sche took a staf anon, 

And sawh a litel glymeryng of a light ; 

For at an hool in schon the moone bright, 

And by that light sche saugh hem bothe two ; 

But sikirly sche wiste nat who was who, 

But as sche saugh a whit thing in hir ye. 4800 

And whan sche gan this white thing aspye, 

Sche wend the clerk had wered a volupeer ; 

And with a staf sche drough hir neer and neer. 

And wend have hit this Alej'-n atte fulle, 

And smot this meller on the piled scuUe, 

That doun he goth, and cryeth, "Harrow! I dye I " 

This clerkes beeten him wel, and leet hym lye, 

And greyth hem wel, and take her hors anon. 

And eek here mele, and hoom anon they goon ; 

And at the millen dore they tok here cake 

Of half a buisshel flour f ul wel i-bake. 4310 

Thus is the prowde miller wel i-bete, 
And hath i-lost the gryndyng of the whete. 
And payed for the soper every del 
Of Aleyn and of Johan, that beten him wel ; 
His wyf is swyved, and his doughter als. * 

Lo ! such it is a miller to be fals. 
And therto this proverbe is seyd ful soth, 
He tliar nat weene wel that evyl doth. 
A gylour schal himself bygiled be. 

And God, that sitest in thy mageste, 4320 

Save al this compaignie, gret and smale. 
Thus have I quyt the miller in his tale. 

THE COKES PROLOGE. 

The Cook of Londone, whil the Reeve spak, 
For joye he thought he clawed him on the bak ; 
'* Ha, ha ! " quod he, *' for Cristes passioun, 
This meller hath a scharp conclusioun 
Upon his argument of herburgage. 
Wel seyde Salomon in his langage, 
Ne bryng nat every man into thyn hous, 
For herburgage by night is perilous. 4330 

4318. he thar nat. The literal meaning of this proverb seems lo be, '* lie 
*ocd not imagine, or suppose, well, who does evil." 



THE COKES TALE. 125 

Wei aught a man avised for to be 

Whom that he brought into his pryvj^te. 

I pray to Grod so gyf my body care, 

Gif ever, siththen I highte Hogge of Ware, 

Herd I a better miller set a-werke ; 

He hadde a jape of malice in the derke. 

But God forbede that M'e stynten heere, 

And therfore if ye vouchesauf to heere 

A tale of me that am a pover man, 

I wol yow telle as wel as 1 kan 4340 

A litel jape that fel in oure cite." 

Oure Host answerde and seyde, " I graunt it the. 
Now telle on, Roger, and loke it be good ; 
For many a pastey hastow lete blood, 
And many a Jakk of Dover hastow sold, 
That hath be twyes hoot and twyes cold. 
Of many a pylgrym hastow Cristes curs ; 
For thy persly they faren yet the wors. 
That they have eten with the stubbil goos ; 
For in thy schoppe is many a flye loos. 4350 

Now tell on, gentil Roger by thy name. 
But yit I pray the be nought wroth for game ; 
A man may seye ful sothe in game and pley." 

" Thow saist ful soth," quod Roger, " by my fey I 
But soth play quad play, as the Flemyng saith ; 
And therfore, Herry Baillif, by thy faith, 
Be thou nat wroth, or we departe her, 
Though that my tale be of an hostyler. 
But natheles I wol not telle it yit, 

But or we departe it schal be quyt." 4360 

And therwithal he lowh and made chere, 
And seyde his tale, as ye schal after heere. 

THE COKES TALE. 

A PRENTTs dwelled whilom in oure citee, 
And of a craft of vital Hers was he ; 
Gaylard he was, as goldfynch in the schawe, 
Broun as a bery, and a propre felawe. 
With lokkes blak, and kempt ful fetously. 

4345. Jakk of Dover. Some article of cookery, which I have not found 
noentioued or alluded to elsewhere, and which it would therefore be vain to 
attempt to explain. 

4353, This line, as well as 1. 4356, is omitted in Ms. Harl., which reads by 
my faith in 1. 4354, to make it rhyme with 4355- 

4355. soth play, Tyrwhitt, to make Flemish of the phrase, reads soth play 
quade spel, which, after all, is but half Flemish, and is contrary to the gen- 
eral authority of the M8S. He quotes from Sir John Harrington's .^/>otoyie 
for Poetrie a similar English proverb, soth bo2irde is no bo^irde. 



12C THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Dauncen he cowde wel and prately, 
That he was cleped Perkyn Revellour. 
He was as ful of love and paramour 4370 

As is the honycombe of hony swete ; 
Wel were the wenche that mighte him meete. 
[At every bridale wold he synge and hoppe ; 
He loved bet the taverne than the schoppe.] 
For whan ther eny rydyng was in Cheepe, 
Out of the schoppe thider wolde he lepe, 
And tyl he hadde al that sight i-seyn, 
And daunced wel, he nold nat come ageyn ; 
And gadred him a meyne of his sort, 
To hoppe and synge, and make such disport. 4380 
And ther they setten stevene for to meete, 
To pleyen atte dys in such a strete. 
For in the toun ne was ther no prentys 
That fairer cowde caste a peyre dys 
Than Perkyn couthe, and therto he was free 
Of his dispence, in place of pryvyte. 
That fand his mayster wel in his chaff are, 
For often tyme he fond his box ful bare. 
For such a joly prentys revelour. 

That haunteth dys, revel, or paramour, 4390 

His maister schal it in his schoppe abye, 
Al have he no part of the mynstralcye. 
For thefte and ryot be convertyble, 
Al can they pley on giterne or rubible. 
Revel and trouthe, as in a lowe degre, 
They ben ful wroth al day, as ye may see. 
This joly prentys with his mayster bood. 
Til he was oute neygh of his prentyshood, 
Al were he snybbyd bothe erly and late, 
And som tyme lad with revel into Newgate. 4400 

But atte laste his mayster him by thought 
Upon a day, whan he his papyr sought, 
Of a proverbe, that saith this same word, 
Wel bette is roten appul out of hord. 
Than that it rote al the remenaunt. 
So fareth it by a ryotous servaunt ; 
It is ful lasse harm to late him pace, 
Than he schend al the servauntes in the place. 
Therfore his mayster gaf him acquitaunce. 
And bad him go, with sorwe and with meschaunce. 

4873. This and tlie foilowiag line are omitted in Ms. Harl. 
4376. \n Cheepe. Clieapside was the grand scene of city festivals and pro 
cessiouB. 

4409. acqvAtaunce. The Ms. Harl. reads acqueyntaunce. 



THE COKES TALE OF GAMELY h\ 127 



And thus the joly prentys had his leve. 441/ 

]SFov/ let hym ryot al the night or leve. 

And for ther is no tlief withowten a lowke. 

That helpeth him to M'asten and to sovvke 

Of that he bribe can, or borwe may, 

Anon he sent liis bedde and his aray 

Unto a compere of his owen sort, 

That loved dis, and revel, and disport ; 

And had a wyf, that held for contenaunce 

A schoppe, and swyved for hire sustenaunce. 4420 



[Fye theron, it is so foule, I wil noAve telle no forther. 
For schame of the harlotrie that seweth after ; 
A velany it were thare of more to spelle, 
Bot of a knyht and his sonnes my tale I wil forthe 
telle.] 

THE COKES TALE OF GAMELYN. 

Litheth, and lestneth, and herkneth aright, 
And ye schul heere a talkyng of a doughty knight ; 
Sire Johan of Boundys was his right name, 
He cowde of norture ynough and mochil of game. 
Thre sones the knight had, that with his body he wan ; 
The eldest was a moche schrewe, and sone he bygan. 
His bretheren loved wel here fader, and of him were 
agast, [last. 

The eldest deserved his fadres curs, and had it at the 
The goode knight his fader lyvede so yore. 
That deth was comen him to, and handled him f ul sore. 
The goode knight cared sore, sik ther he lay, 11 

How his children scholde lyven after his day. 

4413. The lines from 4413 to 4420 are omitted in Ms. Harl., but they are 
evidently genuine. 

The Cokts Tale of Gamelyn. Tyrwliitt omits this tale, as being certainly 
not Chaucer's ; in which judgment he is probably right. It is, however, 
found in the Ms- Harl. and all the Mss. I have collated. Tyrwhitt ends 
abruptly with 1. 4420. In Ms. Harl. the tale of Gamelyn begins without any 
introduction ; I have added the introductory lines from the Lansdowue Ms. 
Other MSS., instead of.thcm, have only two,— 

Bui herof I wille passe as nowe. 

And of yonge Gamelyn I wille telle yowe 

The tale of Gamelyn belongs to the Robin Hood cycle, and is curious as a 
picture of the times. It will be at once recognized as the foundation of 
Shakespeare's As ymi like it, though the dramatist appears to bave taken it 
through the intermediance of Lodge's Jutphucs Golden Legacy, which la 
clearly built on the poem of Gamelyn, even tbe name of Adam Spencer being 
retained. In some m.ss. (iamelyn's father is called Johan of Burdeux, an 
additional link with Lodge's novel. See further remarks on this tale in the 
introduction. 



128 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



He hadde ben vryde wher, but non housbond \\>' was, 
Al the lond that he had, it was verrey purchas. 
Fayn he wold it were dressed amonges hem alle, 
That ech of hem had his part, as it mighte falle. 
Tho sent he into cuntre after wise knightes, 
To heipe delen his londes and dressen hem to rightes. 
He sent hem word by lettres they schulden hye blyve, 
Yf they wolde speke with him whil he was on lyve. 20 
Tho the knyghtes herden sik ther he lay, 
Hadde they no reste nother night ne day, 
Til they comen to him ther he lay stille 
On his deth bedde, to abyde Goddes wille. 
Than seyde the goode knight, syk ther he lay, 
" Lordes, I you warne for soth, withoute nay, 
I may no lengere lyven heer in this stounde ; 
Forthurgh Goddes wille deth draweth me togrounde." 
Ther nas non of hem alle that herd him aright, 
That they hadden reuthe of that like knight, 30 

And seyde, " Sir, for Goddes love, ne dismay you 

nought ; 
God may do bote of bale that is now i- wrought." 
Than spak the goode knight, sik ther he lay, 
*' Boote of bale God may sende, I wot it is no nay; 
But I byseke you, knightes, for the love of me, 
Goth and dresseth my lond among my sones thre. 
And, sires, for the love of God, deleth hem nat amys. 
And forgetith nat Gamelyn, my yonge sone that is. 
Taketh heed to that on, as wel as to that other ; 
Selde ye see ony eyr helpen his brother." 40 

Tho leete they the knight lyen that was nought in 

hele. 
And wenten in to counseil his londes for to dele ; 
For to delen hem alle to oon, that was her thought, 
And for Gamelyn was yongest, he schuld have nought. 
Al the lond that ther was they dalten it in two. 
And leeten Gamelyn the yonge withoute lond go. 
And ech of hem seyde to other ful lowde. 
His bretheren might geve him lond whan he good 

cowde. 
Whan they hadde deled tho lond at here wille. 
They come agein to the knight ther he lay fulstiUe, 50 
And tolden him anon right how they hadden wrought ; 
And the knight there he lay liked it right nought. 
Than seyde the knight, " I sware by seynt Martyn, 
For al that yo have y-doon yit is the lond myn ; 
For Goddes love, neyhebours, stondeth alle stille, 
And I wil dele my lond after my wille. 



TUF COKES TALE OF GAMELYN. lL'9 



Johan, myn eldeste sone, schal have plowes fyve, 
That was my fadres heritag:e whil he was on lyve ; 
And my myddeleste sone fyf plowes of lond, 
That I halp for to gete with my right hond ; CO 

And al myn other purchas of londes and leedes 
That I byquethe Gamelyn, and alle my goode steedes. 
And I byseke yow, goode men, that lawe conne of 

londe 
For Gamelynes love, that my queste stonde." 
Thus dalte the knight his lond by his day, 
Right on his deth bed sik ther he lay ; 
A.nd sone aftirward he lay stoon stille, 
And deyde whan tyme com, as it was Cristes wiile. 
And anon as he w^as deed, and under gras i-grave, 
Sone the elder brother gyled the yonge knave j 70 

He took into his hond his lond and his leede, 
And Gamelyn himselfe to clothen and to feede. 
He clothed him and fed him yvel and eek wrothe, 
And leet his londes for-fare and his houses bothe, 
His parkes and his woodes, and dede nothing wel, 
And seththen he it abought on his faire fel. 
So longe was Gamelyn in his brotheres halle, 
For the strengest of good wil they doutiden him alle ; 
Ther w^as non therinne nowther yong ne olde 
That wolde wraththe Gamelyn, were he never so bolde. 
Gamelyn stood on a day in his brotheres yerde, 81 
And bygan with his hond to handlen his berde ; 
He thought on his londes that layen unsawe. 
And his faire okes that doun were i-drawe ; 
His parkes were i-broken, and his deer byreeved ; 
Of alle his goode steedes noon w^as him byleved ; 
His how^ses were unhilid and ful yvel dight. 
Tho thoughte Gamelyn it wente nought aright. 
Afterward cam his brother walkynge thare. 
And se3^de to Gamelyn, " Is our mete yare ? " 90 

Tho wraththed him Gamelyn, and swor by Goddes 

book, 
*' Thou schalt go bake thiself, I wil nought be thy 

cook." 
*' How ? brother Gamelyn, how answerest thou now ? 
Thou spake never such a word as thou dost now." 
*' By my faith," seyde Gamelyn, "now me thinketh 

neede, 

57. plowes fyve. A plough of land was as much as could be ploughed with 
one plough. It was iu thw middle ages a common mode of estimating landed 
property. 

61. and leedes. i. e. and bondmen ; the portion of the population which 
was bought and Bold with the laud. 



130 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Of alle the harmes that I have I tok never ar heede. 
My parkes ben to-broken, and my deer byreved, 
Of myn armure and my steedes noug:ht is me bileved ; 
Al that my fader me byqnatli al goth to schame, 
And therfor have thou Goddes curs, brother, by thy 

name." 100 

Then byspak his brother, that rape was of rees, 
" Stond stille, gadelyng, and hold right thy pees ; 
Thow schalt be fayn for to have thy mete and thy 

wede ; 
What spekest thou, Gamelyn, of lond other of leede ?" 
Thanne seyde Gamely n, the child that was ying, 
*' Cristes curs mot he have that clepeth me gadelyng ! 
I am no worse gadelyng, ne no worse wight. 
But born of a lady, and geten of a knight." 
Ne durst he nat to Gamelyn ner a foote go. 
But clepide to him his men, and seyde to hem tho, 110 
" Goth and beteth this boy, and reveth him his wyt, 
And lathim leren another tyme to answere me bet." 
Thanne seyde the child, yonge Gamelyn, 
" Cristes curs mot thou have, brother art thou myn ; 
And if I schal algate be beten anon, 
Cristes curs mot thou have, but thou be that oon." 
And anon his brother in that grete hete 
Made his men to fette staves Gamelyn to bete. 
Whan that everich of hem a staf had i-nome, 
Gamelyn was war anon tho he seigh hem come; 120 
Tho Gamelyn seyh hem come, he loked over al, 
And was war of a pestel stood under a wal ; 
Gamelyn was light of foot and thider gan he lepe. 
And drof alle his brotheres men right on an hepe. 
He loked as a wilde lyoun, and leyde on good woon ; 
Tho his brother say tiiat, he bigan to goon ; 
He lley up intil a loft, and schette the dore fast. 
Thuo Gamelyn with the pestel made hem alle agast. 
Some for Gamelynes love and some for his eyghe, 
Alle they drowe by halves, tho he gan to pleyghe. 130 
*' What ! how now ?" seyde Gamelyn, "evel mot ye 

thee! 
Wil ye bygynne contek, and so sone flee ? " 
Gamelyn sought his brother, whider he was fiowe, 
And saugh w^her he loked out at a wyudowe. 
" Brother," sayde Gamelyn, *' com a litel ner, 
And I wil teche the a play atte bokeler." 
His brother him answerde, and swor by seynt Rycher, 
** Whil the pestel is in thin hond, I wil come no ueer : 



THE COKES TALE OF GAMELYN. 131 

Brother, I wil make thy pees, I swere by Cristes ore ; 
Cast away the pestel, and wraththe the nomore." 140 
"I mot neede," sayda Gamelyn, "wraththe me at 

oones, 
For thou wolde make thy men to breke myne boones, 
Ne had I hadde mayn and might in myn armes, 
To have i-put hem fro me, he wolde have do me 

harmes." 
"Gamelyn," sayde his brother, "be thou nought 

wroth. 
For to seen the have harm it were me right loth ; 
I ne dide it nought, brother, but for a fondyng, 
For to loken or thou were strong and art so ying." 
*' Com adoun than to me, and graunte me my bone. 
Of thing I wil the aske, and wesehul saught sone." 350 
Doun than cam his brother, that fykil was and felle, 
And was swithe sore agast of the pestelle. 
He seyde, " Brother Gamelyn, aske me thy boone, 
And loke thou me blame but I graunte sone." 
Thanne seyde Gamelyn, " Brother, i-wys, 
And we schulle ben at oon, thou most me graunte this, 
Al that my fader me byquath whil he was on lyve, 
Thou most do me it luive, gif we schiil nat stryve." 
"That schalt thou have, Gamelyn, I swere by Cristes 

ore I " 160 

Al that thi fader the byquath, though thou woldest 

have more ; 
Thy lond, that lyth laye, ful wel it schal be so we, 
And thyn howses reysed up, that ben leyd so low.' 
Thus seyde the knight to Gamelyn with mowtlie, 
And thought eek of falsnes, as he wel couthe. 
The knight thought on tresoun, and Gamelyn on 

noon, 
And went and kist his brother, and than they were at 

oon. 
Alias ! yonge Gamelyn, nothing he ne wiste 
With which a false tresoun his brother him kiste. 
Litheth, and lestneth, and holdeth your tonge, 
And ye schul heere talkyng of Gamelyn the yonge. 
Ther was ther bysiden cryed a wrastlyng, 171 

And therfor ther was sette up a ram and a ryng j 
And Gamelyn was in good wil to wende therto, 
For to preven his might what he cowthe do. 
" Brother," seyde Gamelyn, " by seynt Richer, 
Thou most lene me to nyght a litel courser 

127. a ram. See before, the general prologue, 1, 550. 



JS2 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 

That is freisch to the «pore, on for to ryde ; 

I most on an erande, a litel her byside." 

*' By God ! " seyd his brother, " of steedes in my stalle 

Go and chese the the best, and spare non of alle, 180 

Of steedes or of coursers that stonden hem bisyde ; 

And tel me, g:oode brother, whider thou wolt ryde." ' 

*' Her byside, brother, is cryed a wrastlyng, 

And therfor schal be set up a ram and a ryng ; 

Moche worschip it were, brother, to us alle. 

Might I the ram and tho ryng brvug home to this 

halle." 
A steedo ther was sadeled sniertely and skeet ; 
Gamelyn did a paire spores fast on his feet, 
He set his foot in the styrop, the steede he bystrood, 
And toward the wrastelyng the yonge child rood. 180 
Tho Gamelyn the yonge was ride out at the gate, 
The fals knight his brother lokked it after thate, 
And bysoughte Jhesu Crist that is heven kyng 
He mighte breke his nekke in that wrastlyng. 
As sone as Gamelyn com ther the place was, 
He lighte doun of his steede, and stood on the gras, 
And ther he herd a frankeleyn wayloway syng, 
And bigan bitterly his hondes for to wryng. 
" Goode man," seyde Gamelyn, " why makestow this 

fare? 199 

Is ther no man that may you helpeout of this care ? " 
"Alias!" seyde this frankeleyn, *' tliat ever was I 

bore ! 
For tweye stalworthe sones I wene that I have lore ; 
A champioun is in the place, that hath i- wrought me 

eorwe. 
For he hath slayn my two sones, but if God hem 

borwe. 
I wold geve ten pound, by Jhesu Crist ! and more. 
With the nones 1 fand a man to handil him sore." 
*' Goode man," sayde Gamelyn, " wilt thou wel doon, 
Hold myn hors, whil my man draweth of my schoon. 
And help my man to kepe my clothes and my steede. 
And 1 wil into place go, to loke if I may speede." 210 
*' By God I " sayde the frankeleyn, ** anon it schal be 

doon 'y 
\ wil myself be thy man, to drawen of thy schoon, 
And wende thou into the place, Jhesu Crist the speede I 
And drede not of thy clothes, nor of thy goode steede." 

Barfoot and ungert Gamelyn in cam, 
Alle that weren in the place heede of him they nam, 
How he durst auntre him of him to doon his might 



THE COKES TALE OF GAMELYN IBS 



That was so doughty champioun in wrastlyng and in 

fight. 
Up sterte the championn raply and anoon, 
Toward yonge Ganielyn he bigan to goon, 220 

And sayde, " Who is thy fader and who is thy sire? 
For sothe thou art a gret fool, that thou come hire." 
Gamelyn answerde the championn tho, 
" Thou knewe wel my fader whii he couthe go, 
Whiles he was on lyve, by seint Martyn! 
Sir Johan of Boundys was his name, and I Gamelyn.'* 
" Felaw," seyde the championn. " al so mot I thryve, 
I knew M'^el thy fader, whil he was on the 13'^ve ; 
And thiself, Gamelyn, I wil that thou it heere, 
Whil thou were a yong boy a moche schrewe thou 

were." 230 

Than seyde Gamelyn, and swor by Cristes ore, 
'* Now I am older woxe, thou schalt me fynd a more." 
'* Be God ! " sayde the championn, " welcome mote 

thou be ! 
Come thou ones in myn bond, schalt thou never the." 
It was wel withinne the night, and the moone schon, 
Whan Gamelyn and the championn togider gon to 

goon. 
The championn caste tomes to Gamelyn that was 

prest, 
And Gamelyn stood stille, and bad him doon his best. 
Thanne seyde Gamelyn to the championn, 
" Thou art fast aboute to brynge me adoun ; 
Now I have i-proved many tornes of thyne, 240 

Thow most," he seyde, " proven on or tuo of myne." 
Gamelyn to the championn yede smartly anon, 
Of allethe tornes that he cowthe he schewed him but 

oon. 
And kasthim on the left syde, thatthre ribbes to braU. 
And therto his oon arm, that gaf a gret crak. 
Thanne seyde Gamelyn smert.y anoon, 
■ Schal it be holde for a cast, or elles for noon ? " 
•' By God," seydthe championn, '' whether that it bee. 
He that comes ones in thin hand schal he never thee I " 
Than seyde the frankeieyn, that had his sones there, 
*' Blessed be thou, Gamelyn, that ever thou bore 

were ! " 251 

The frank leyn seyd to the championn, of him stood 

him noon eye, 
"This is yonge Gamelyn that taughte the this pleye." 
Agein answerd the championn, that liked nothing 

welle, 



134 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



*' He is a lither mayster, and his pley is right felle ; 
Sith I wrastled first, it is i-go ful yore, 
But I was nevere my lyf handled so sore." 
Gamelyn stood in the place allone withoute serk. 
And seyd, " If ther be eny mo, lat hem come to werk ; 
The champioun that peyned him to werke so sore, 260 
It semeth by his eontinaunce that he wil nomore." 
Gamelyn in the place stood as stille as stoon, 
For to abyde wrastelyng, but ther com noon ; 
Ther was noon with Gamelyn wolde wrastle more, 
For he handled the champioun so wonderly sore. 
Two gentilmen ther were yemede the place, 
Comen to Gamelyn, God geve him goode grace ! 
And sayde to hem, " Do on thyn hosen and thy 

schoon, 
For sothe at this tyme this feire is i-doon." 
And than seyde Gamelyn, *'So mot I wel fare, 
I have nought yet halyendel sold up my ware," 270 
Tho seyde the champioun, " So brouk I my sweere^ 
He is a fool that tlieroi beyeth, thou sellest it so deere." 
Tho sayde the frankeleyn that was in moche care, 
" Felaw," he seyde, " why lakkest thou his ware? 
By seynt Jame in Galys, that many man hath sought, 
Yet it is to good cheep that thou hast i-bought." 
Tho that wardeynes were of that wrastlyng, 
Come and broughte Gamelyn the ram and the ryng, 
And seyden, " Have, Gamelyn, the ryng and the ram. 
For the best wrasteler that ever here cam." 280 

Thus wan Gamelyn the ram and the ryng, 
And wente with moche joye home in the mornyng. 
His brother seih wlier he cam with the grete rowte, 
And bad schitte the gate, and holde him withoute. 
The porter of his lord was ful sore agast, 
And stert anon to the gate, and lokked it fast. 

Now litheth, and lestneth, bothe yong and olde, 
And ye schui heere gameri of Gamelyn the bolde. 
Gamelyn come therto for to have comen in, 
And thanne was it i-schet faste with a pyn ; 
Than seyde Gamelyn, " Porter, undo the yate, 
For many good mannes sone stondeth therate." 290 
Than answerd the porter, and swor by Goddes berde, 
"Thow ne schalt, Gamelyn, come into this yerde." 
" Thow lixt," sayde Gamelyn, "so browke I my chyn 1 " 
He smot the wyket with his foot, and brak awey the 

pyn. 
The porter seyh tho it might no better be, 
lie sette foot on erthe, and fast bigan to flee. 



rUE roKES TALE OF GAMELYN. 135 



"By my faith," seyde Grainelyn, "that travail is i-lore, 
For I am of foot as lighte as thou, though thow had- 

dest swore." 
Gamelyn overtook the porter, and his teene wrak, 
And gert him in the nekke, that the bon to-brak, 300 
And took him by that oon arm, and threw him in a 

welle. 
Seven f admen it was deep, as I have herd tellf^. 
Whan Gamelyn the yonge thus hadde pleyd his play, 
Alle that in the yerde were drewen hem away ; 
They dredden him ful sore, for werkes that be 

wroughte, 
And for the faire company that he thider broughte. 
Gamelyn yede to the gate, and leet it up wyde ; 
He leet in alle maner men that gon in wold or ryde, 
And seyde, " Ye be welcome withouten eny greeve, 
For we wiln be maistres heer, and aske no man leve. 
Yestirday I lefte," seyde yonge Gamelyn, 311 

*' In 11] y brother seller fyve tonne of wyn ; 
I wil not that this compaignye parten a-twynne, 
And ye wil doon after me, whil eny sope is thrynne ; 
And if my brother grucche, or make foul cheere, 
Other for spense of mete or drynk that we spenden 

heere, 
I am oure catour, and here oure aller purs, 
He schal have for his grucchyng seint Maries curs. 
My brother is a nyggoun, I swer by Cristes ore, 319 
And we wil spende largely that he hath spared yore ; 
And who that maketh grucchyng that we here d welle, 
He schal to the porter into the draw-Avelle." 
Seven dayes and seven nyght Gamelyn held his feste. 
With moche myrth and solas that was ther and no 

cheste ; 
In a litel toret his brother lay i-steke, 
And sey hem wasten his good, but durst he not speke. 
Erly on a mornyng on the eighte day 
Tlie gestes come to Gamelyn and wolde gon here way. 
" Lordes," seyde Gamelyn, "will ye so hye i 
Al the wyn is not yet y-dronke, so brouk I myn ye." 
Gamelyn in his herte was he ful wo, 331 

Whan his gestes took her leve from him for to go ; 
He wold they had lenger abide, and they seyde nay, 
But bitaughte Gamelyn God, and good day. 
Thus made Gamelyn his fest, and brought it wel to 

ende, 
And after his gestys took leve to wende. 
Litheth, and lestneth, and holdeth youre tonge, 



136 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And ye schul heere gamen of Gamelyn the yonge ; 

Herkneth, lordynges, and lesteneth aright, 

Whan alle the gestes were goon how Gamelyn was 

dight 340 

Al the whil that Gamelyn heeld his mangerye, 
His brother thought on him be wreke with his trec- 

cherie. 
Tho Gamelyns gestes were riden and i-goon, 
Gamelyn stood allone, frendes had he noon ; 
Tho after ful soone withinne a litel stounde, 
Gamelyn was i-take and ful hard i-bounde. 
Forth com the fals knight out of the selleer, 
To Gamelyn his brother he yede ful neer, 
And sayde to Gamelyn, '* Who made the so bold 
For to stroye my stoor of myn housliold ? " 350 

*' Brother," seyde Gamelyn, " wraththe the right 

nought, 
For it is many day i-gon siththen it was bought ; 
For, brother, thou hast i-had, by seynt Richer, 
Of fiftene plowes of lond this sixtene yer. 
And of alle the beestes thou hast forth bred, 
That my fader me biquath on his deth bed ; 
Of al this sixtene yeer I geve the the prow 
For the mete and the drynk that we have spended 

now." 
Thanne seyde the fals knyght, evel mot he the, 
'* Herkne, brother Gamelyn, what I wol gev^e the ; 360 
For of my body, brother, geten heir have I noon, 
I wil make the myn heir, I swere by seint Johan." 
'* Par ma foy ! " sayd Gamelyn, " and if it so be, 
And thou thenke as thou seyst, God yelde it the ! " 
Nothing wiste Gamelyn of his brotheres gyle ; 
Therfore he him bigyled in a litel while. 
*' Gamelyn," seyde he, " o thing I the telle ; 
Tho thou threwe my porter in the draw-welle, 
I swor in that wraththe, and in that grete moot, 
That thou schuldest be bounde bothe hand and foot ; 
Therfore I the biseche, brother Gamelyn, 871 

Lat me nought be forsworn, as brother art thou myn ; 
Lat me bynde the now bothe hand and feet. 
For to holde myn avow, as I the biheet." 
** Brother," sayde Gamelyn, " al so mot I the I 
Thou schalt not be forsworen for the love of me." 
Tho made they Gamelyn to sitte, might he nat stonde, 
Tyl they had him bounde bothe foot and honde. 
The fals knight his brother of Gamelyn was agast, 
And sent aftir feteres to feteren him fast. 38() 



THE COKES TALE OF GAMELYN. 137 

His brother made lesynges on him ther he stood. 

And told hem that comen in that Gamelyn was wood. 

Gamelyn stood to a post bounden in the halle, 

Tho that comen in ther loked on him alle. 

Ever stood Gamelyn even upright ; 

But mete ne drynk had he non neither day ne night. 

Than seyde Gamelyn, " Brother, by myn hals, 

Now I have aspied thou art a party fals ; 

Had I M'ist that tresoun that thou haddest y-founde, 

I wolde have geve the strokes or I had be bounds ! " 

Gamelyn stood bounden stille as eny stoon ; 391 

Two dayes and two nightes mete had he noon. 

Thanne seyde Gamelyn, that stood y-bounde stronge, 

*' Adam spenser, me thinkth I faste to longe ; 

Adam spenser, now I bysech the, 

For the mochel lovo my fader loved the, 

Yf thou may come to the keyes, lese me out of bond, 

And I wil parte with the of my free lond." 

Thanne seyde Adam, that was the spencer, 

*' I have served thy brother this sixtene yeer, 400 

If I leete the goon out of this hour, 

He wolde say afterward I were a tray tour." 

** Adam," sayde Gamelyn, '* so brouk I myn hals 1 

Thou schalt fynde my brother atte laste fals ; 

Therfor, brother Adam, louse me out of bond, 

And I wil parte with the of my free lond." 

" Up swich a forward," seyd Adam, " i-wys, 

I wil do therto al that in me is." 

" Adam," seyde Gamelyn, " al so mot I the, 

I wol hold the covenant, and thou wil me." 410 

Anon as Adames lord to bedde was i-goon, 

Adam took the keyes, and leet Gamelyn out anoon ; 

He unlokked Gamelyn bothe hand and feet. 

In hope of avauncement that he him byheet. 

Than seyde Gamelyn, '' Thanked be Goddes sonde I 

Now I am loosed bothe foot and honde ; 

Had I now eten and dronken aright, 

Ther is noon in this hous schulde bynde me this night." 

Adam took Gamelyn, as stille as ony stoon, 

And ladde him into spence rapely and anon, 420 

And sette him to soper right in a prive stede. 

And bad him do gladly, and Gamelyn so dede. 

420. spence. The spence, or, according to the original French form of the 
word, despence, was the closet or room in convents and large houset; where 
the victuals, wine, and plate were lucked up ; and the person who had the 
charge of it was called the spenctr, or the detspencer- Heuce originuied two 
uoiimiou family uameb. 



138 • 2^/7^ CANTERBURY TALES. 

Anon as Ganiolyn hadde eten wel and fyn, 

And therto y-dronke wel of the rede wyn, 

" Adam," seyde Ganielyn, *' what is now thy reed ? 

Wher I go to my brother and girde of his heed ?" 

*' Gamelyn," seyd Adam, " it schal not be so, 

I can teche the a reed that is worth the two. 

I wot wel for sothe that this is no nay, 

We schul have a mangery right on Sonday ; 430 

Abbotes and priours many heer schal be, 

And other nten of holy chirche, as I telle the ; 

ThoAv schalt stonde up by the post as thou were hond- 

fast. 
And I schal leve hem unloke, awey thou may hem cast. 
>Vhan that they have eten and waisschen here hondes, 
Thou schalt biseke hem alle to bryng the out of 

bondes ; 
And if they wille borwe the, that were good game, 
Then were thou out of prisoun, and I out of blame ; 
And if everich of hem say unto us nay, 
I schal do another thing, I swere by this day I 440 

TLou schalt have a good staf and I wil have another. 
And Cristes curs have that oon that faileth that 

other! " 
*' Ye, for Gode ! " sayde Gamelyn, " I say it for me, 
If I fayle on my syde, yvel mot I the ! 
If we schvil algate assoile hem of here synne, 
Warne me, brother Adam, whan I schal bygynne." 
*' Gamelyn," seyde Adam, *'by seynte Charite, 
.1 wil warne the byforn whan that it schal be ; 
Whan I twynk on the, loke for to goon, 449 

And cast awey the feteres, and come to me anoon." 
*' Adam," seide Gamelyn, " blessed be thy bones ! 
That is a good counseil gevyng for the nones ; 
If they werne me thanne to brynge me out of bendes, 
I wol sette goode strokes right on here lendes." 
Tho the Sonday w^as i-come, and folk to the feste, 
Faire they were welcomed bothe lest and meste ; 
And ever as they atte halle dore comen in. 
They caste their eye on yonge Gamelyn. 
The fals knight his brother, ful of trechery, 
Alle the gestes that ther were atte mangery, 480 

Of Gamelyn his brother he tolde hem with niouthe 
Al the harm and the schame that he telle couthe. 
Tho they were served of messes tuo or thre, 
Than seyde Gamelyn, " How serve ye me ? 
It is nought wel served, by God that al made I 
That 1 sytte fastyug, and other men make glade." 



TEE COh..S TALE (jF GAMELYN 13§ 

The fals knight his brother, ther that he stood, 
Tolde alle his gestes that Gamelyn was wood ; 
And Gamelyn stood stille, and answerde nought, 
But Adanies wordes lie held in his thought. 470 

Tho Gamelyn gan speke dolfuliy withalle 
To the gret lordes that saten in the halle : 
** Lordes," he seyde, "for Cristes passioun, 
Helpeth brynge Gamelyn out of prisoun.". 
Than seyde an abbot, sorwe on his cheeke ! 
" He schal have Cristes curs and seynte Maries eeke, 
That the out of prisoun beggeth other borwe, 
But ever worthe hem wel that doth the moche sorwe." 
After that abbot than s^jak another, 
"I wold thin heed were of, though thou were my 
brother I 480 

Alle that the borwe, foule mot hem falle ! " 
Thus they seyde alle that were in the halle. 
Than seyde a iiriour, yvel mot he thryve ! 
" It is moche sLatlie, boy, that thou art on lyve." 
** Ow," seyde Gamelyn, " so brouk I my bon! 
Now I have aspyed that freendes have I non. 
Cursed mot he worthe bothe fleisch and blood 
That ever do priour or abbot ony good ! " 
Adam the spencer took up the cloth, 489 

And loked on Gamelyn, and say that he was wroth • 
Adam on the pantrye litel he thought. 
But tuo goode staves to halle dore he brouglit. 
Adam loked on Gamelyn, and he was war anoon. 
And cast awey the fetei-es, and he bigan to goon : 
Tho he com to Adam, he took that oo staf, 
And bygan to worche, and goode strokes gaf. 
Gamelyn cam into the halle, and the spencer bothe, 
And loked hem aboute, as they had be wrothe ; 
Gamelyn sprengeth holy-water with an oken spire, 
That some that stoode upright fel in the fire. 500 

Ther was no lewede man that in the halle stood, 
That wolde do Gamelyn eny thing but good. 
But stoode besyde, and leet hem bothe werche. 
For they hadde no rewthe of men of holy cherche ; 
Abbot or priour, monk or chanoun, 
That Gamelyn overtok, anon they yeeden doun. 
Ther was non of hem alle that with his staf metto, 
That he made him overthrowe and quyt him his tlelto. 
" Gamelyn," seyde Adam, " for seynte Charite, 
Pay large lyverey, for the love of me, 510 

And I wil kepe the dore, so ever here I masse I 
Er they ben assoyled there shan noon passe." 



140 THE CANTEnBURY TALES.^ 



*• Dowt the nought," seyde Gamelyn, " whii we ben 

in feere, 
Kep thou wel the dore, and I wol werehe heere ; 
Stere the, good Adam, and lat ther noon flee, 
And we schul telle largely how many ther be." 
" Gamelyn," seyde Adam, " do hem but good ; 
They ben men of holy chirche, draw of hem no blood, 
Save wel the croune, and do hem non harmes. 
But brek bothe her legges and si th then here armes." 
Thus Gamelyn and Adam wroughte right fast, 521 

And pleyden with the monkes, and made hem agast. 
Thider they come rydyng jolily with swaynes, 
But hom agen they were i-lad in cartes and in waynes, 
Tho they hadden al y-don, than seyde a gray frere, 
*' Alias ! sire abbot, what did we now heere ? 
Tho that comen hider, it was a colde reed, 
Us hadde ben better at home with water and breed." 
Whil Gamelyn made ordres of monkes and frere. 
Ever stood his brother, and made foul chere ; 530 

Gamelyn up with his staff, that he wel knew, 
And gert him in the nekke, that he overthrew ; 
A litel above the girdel the rigge-bon to-barst ; 
And sette him in the feteres ther he sat arst. 
" Sitte ther, brother," sayde Gamelyn, 
*' For to colyn thy blood, as I dide myn." 
As swithe as they hadde i-wroken hem on here foon. 
They askaden watir and wisschen anoon, 
What some for here love and some for awe, 
Alle the servantz served hem of the beste lawe. 540 

The scherreve was thennes but a fyve myle, 
And al was y-told him in a litel while. 
How Gamelyn and Adam had doon a sory rees, 
Bounden and i- wounded men agein the kinges pees } 
Tho bigan sone strif for to wake, 
And the scherref aboute cast Gamelyn for to take. 

Now lytheth and lestneth, so God gif you goode fyn I 
And yc schul heere good game of yonge Gamelyn. 
Four and twenty yonge men, that heelden hem ful 

bolde, 
Come to the schirref and seyde that they wolde 550 
Gamelyn and Adam fetten away. 
The scherref gaf hem leve, soth as I you say ; 
They hyeden faste, wold they nought bylynne, 
Til they come to the gate, ther Gamelyn was iraie« 
They knokked on the gate, the porter was ny, 
And loked out at an hoi, as man that was sly. 
The porter hadde byholde hfdm a litel while, 



THE COKES TALE OF GAMELYN. 141 

He loved wel Gamelyn, and was adrad of gyle, 

And asked hem withoute what was here wille. 560 

For al the grete company thanne spak but oon, 

•* Undo the^ate, porter, and lat us in goon." 

Than seyde the porter, '* So brouke I my chyn, 

Ye schul sey your erand er ye comen in." 

" Sey to Gamelyn and Adam, if here wille be, 

We wil speke with hem wordes two or thre." 

•' Felaw," seyde the porter, "stond there stille. 

And I wil wende to Gamelyn to witen his wille." 

In went the porter to Gamelyn anoon, 569 

And seyde, " Sir, I warne you her ben come your foon, 

The scherreves meyne ben atte gate. 

For to take you bothe, schul ye nat skajje." 

" Porter," seyde Gamelyn, " so moot I wel the ! 

I wil allowe the thy wordes whan I my tj'me se ; 

Go agayn to the gate, and dwel with hem a while, 

And thou schalt se right sone, porter, a gyle. 

Adam," sayde Gamelyn, " looke the to goon ; 

We have foomen atte gate, and frendes never oon ; 

It ben the schiiTefes men, that hider ben i-come. 

They ben swore to-gidere that we schul be nome." 580 

" Gamelyn," seyde Adam, ** hye the right blyve. 

And if I faile the this day, evel mot I thryve I 

And we schul so welcome the scherreves men. 

That some of hem schul make here beddes in the 

den." 
Atte posterne gate Gamelyn out went, 
And a good cart staf in his hand he hente ; 
Adam hente sone another gret staf, 
For to helpe Gamelyn, and goode strokes gaf. 
Adam felde tweyne, and Gamelyn felde thre, 
The other setten feet on erthe, and bygonne fle. 590 
" What? " seyde Adam, " so ever here I masse ! 
I have a draught of good wyn, drynk er ye passe." 
" Nay, by God ! " sayde they, " thy drynk is not good, 
It wolde make mannes brayne to lien in his hood." 
Gamelyn stood stille, and loked him aboute. 
And seih the scherreve come with a gret route. 
"Adam," sayde Gamelyn, " my reed is now this. 
Abide we no lenger, lest we fare amys : 
I rede that we to wode goon ar that we be founde, 
Better is us ther loose than in town y-bounde." 000 
Adam took by the bond yonge Gamelyn \ 
And everich of hem tuo drank a draught of wyn, 
And after took her coursers and wenten her way. 
Tho fond the scherreve nest, but non ay. 



142 THE CANTERBURY TALES 

The scherreve lighte adoun, and went into the halle, 
And fond the lord y-fetered faste withalle. 
The scherreve unfetered him sone, and that anoon. 
And sent after a leche to hele his rigge-boon. 

Lete we now this fals knight lyen in his care, 
And talke we of Gamelyn, and loke how he fare. 610 
Gamelyn into the woode stalkede stille, 
And Adam the spenser liked ful ylle ; 
Adam swor to Gamelyn, by seynt Richer, 
"■ Now I see it is mery to be a spencer, 
That lever me were keyes for to here, 
Than walken in this wilde woode my clothes to tere." 
"Adam," seyde Gameljm, "dismaye the right nought; 
Many good mannes child in care is i-brought." 
And "as they stoode talkyng bothen in feere, 
Adam herd talkyng of men, and neyh him thought thei 
were. 621 

Tho Gamelyn under the woode loked aright, 
Sevene score of yonge men he saugh wel adight ; 
Alle satte atte mete in com pas aboute. 
" Adam," seyde Gamelyn, " now have we no doute, 
After bale cometh boote, thurgh grace of God almight ; 
Me thynketh of mete and of drynk that I have a sight." 
Adam lokede tho under woode bowgh, 
And whan he seyh mete he was glad ynough : 
For he hopede to God for to have his deel, 
And he was sore alonged after a good meel. 630 

As he seyde that word, the mayster outlawe 
Saugh Gamelyn and Adam under woode schawe. 
" Yonge men," seyde the maister, " by the goode roode, 
I am war of gestes, God send us non but goode ; 
Yonder ben tuo yonge men, wonder wel adight, 
And paraventure ther ben mo, who so loked aright. 
Ariseth up, ye yonge men, and fetteth hem to me ; 
It is good that we witen what men they bee." 
Up ther sterten sovene fro the dyner. 
And metten with Gamelyn and Adam spenser. 040 

Whan they were neyh hem, than seyde that oon, 
" Yeldeth up, yonge men, your bowes and your floon." 
Thanne seyde Gamelyn, that yong was of elde, 
" Moche sorwe mot he have that to you hem yelde I 
I curse non other, but right myselve, 
They ye fette to yow fyve, thanne ye be twelve." 
Tho they herde by his word that might was in his arm, 
Ther was none of hem alle that wolde do him harm. 
But sayd unto Gamelyn, myldely and stille, 649 

'* Com afore our maister, and sey to him thy wille." 



THE COKES TALE OF GAMELYN. 143 

** Yonge men," sayde Gainelyn, " by your lewte, 

What man is your maister that ye with be ? " 

Alle they ans^Terde withoute lesyng, 

*' Oure maister is i-crouned of outlawes kyng." 

*' Adam," seyde Gamelyn, " go we in Cristes name ; 

He may neyther mete n@r drynk werne us for schame. 

If that he be heende, and come of gentil blood, 

He wol geve us mete and drynk, and doon us som 

good." 
" By seynt Jame ! " seyd Adam, " what harm that I 

gete, 
I wil auntre to the dore that I hadde mete." 660 

Gamelyn and Adam wente forth in feere, 
And they grette the maister that they founde there. 
Than seide the maister, kyng of outlawes, 
*' What seeke ye, yonge men, under woode schawes ? " 
Gamelyn answerde the kyng with his croune, 
" He moste needes walke in woode, that may not walke 

in towne. 
Sire, we walke not heer noon harm for to do. 
But if we meete with a deer, to scheete therto, 
As men that ben hungry, and mow no mete fynde, 
And ben harde bystad under woode lynde." 670 

Of Gamelynes wordes the maister hadde routhe, 
And seyde, "Ye schal have ynough, have God my 

trouthe." 
He bad hem sitte ther adoun, for to take reste ; 
And bad hem ete and drynke, and that of the besie. 
As they sete and eeten and dronke wel and fyn. 
Than seyd that oon to that other, " This is Gamelyii." 
Tho was the maister outlawe into counseil nome. 
And told how it was Gamelyn that thider was i-come. 
Anon as he herde how it was bifalle, 
He made him maister under him over hem alle. 680 
Within the thridde wyke him com tydyng, 
To the maister outlawe that tho was her kyng, 
That he schulde come hom, his pees was i-made ; 
And of that goode tydyng he was tho ful glad. 
Tho seyde he to his yonge men, soth for to telle, 
" Me ben conien tydynges I may no lenger dwelle." 
Tho was Gamelyn anon, withoute tar3^yng. 
Made maister outlawe, and crouned her kyng. 

Tho was Gamelyn crouned kyng of outlawes, 
And walked a while under woode schawes. 690 

The fals knight his brother was scherreve and sire, 
And leet his brother endite for hate and for ire. 
Tho were his bonde-men sory and nothing glade, 



144 THE CANTERBURY TALES 



Whan Gamelyn her lord wolves-heed was cryed ai '^ 

made ; 
And sente out of his men wher they might him fynde. 
For to seke Gamelyn under woode lynde, 
To telle him tydynges how the wynd was wf^nt. 
And al his good revedj and his men sehent. 
Whan they had him founde, on knees they hem sette, 
And adoun with here hood, and here lord grette : 700 
"Sire, wraththe you nought, f'r the goode roode, 
For we have brought you tydynges, but they be nat 

goode. 
Now is thy brother scherreve, and hath the baillye, 
And he hath endited the, and wolves-heed doth the 

crie." 
*' Alias ! " seyde Gamelyn, "that ever 1 was so slak 
That I ne hadde brokehis nekk'^ tho his rigge brak ! 
Goth, greteth hem wel, myn housbondes and wyf, 
I wol ben atte nexte schire, have God my lyf." 
Gamelyn came wel redy to the nexte schire. 
And ther was his brother bothe lord and sire. 710 

Gamelyn com boldelych into the moot halle, 
And put adoun his hood among the lordes alle : 
" God save you alle, lordynges, that now here be I 
But broke-bak scherreve, evel mot thou the ! 
Why hast thou do me that schame and vilonye. 
For to late endite me, and wolves-heed me crye?" 
Tho thought the fals knight for to ben awreke, 
And leet take Gamelyn, most he nomore speke ; 
Might ther be nomore grace, but Gamelyn atte last 
Was cast into prisoun and fetered ful fast. 720 

Gamelyn hath a brother that highte sir Ote, 
As good a knight and heende as mighte gon on foote. 
Anon ther yede a messager to that goode knight, 
And told him altogidere how Gamelyn was dight. 
Anon as sire Ote herde how Gamelyn was adight. 
He was wonder sory, was he nothing light. 
And leet sadle a steede, and the way he nam, 

694. vrolves-heed. This was the ancient Saxon formula of outlawry, and 
seems to have been literally equivalent to setting the mans head at the same 
estimate as a wolf's head. In the laws of^Edward the Confessor, it is said of 
a person who has fled justice, " Si vero postea repertus f uerit, et retineri pos- 
eit, vivus regi reddatur, vel caput ejus, si se defenderit. Lupinum enim gerit 
caput, quod anglice wul/es-heo/od dicitur. Et haec est lex communis et gen- 
eralis de omnibus utlagatis." 

698. his men schenf. Wlien a man's lands were seized by force or unjustly, 
the peasantry on the estates were exposed to be plundered and ill-treated by 
the followers of the intruder. 

701. trraththc ynn nonqht. The messengersof ill tidings, however innocent 
themselves, often experienced all the tirst anger of the person to whom they 
carried them, in the ages of feudal power. Hence the bearer ot ill news gen- 
erally began by deprecating the wrath of the person addi'essed. 



THE COKES TALE OF GAMELYN. 145 

And to his tweyne bretheren anon right he cam. 

" Sire," seyde sire Ote to the scherreve tho, 729 

** We ben but thre bretheren, schiil we never be mo, 

And thou hast y-prisoned the best of us alle ; 

Swich another brother yvel mot him bifalle ! " 

** Sire Ote," seide the fals Ivuight, " lat be thi curs ; 

By God, for thy wordes he schal fare the wurs ; 

To the kynges prisoun anon he is y-nome, 

And ther he schal abyde til the justice come." 

" Parde ! " seyde sir Ote, " better it schal be, 

I bidde him to maympris, that thou graunt him me. 

Til the nexte sittyng of delyveraunce, 

And thanne lat Gramelyn stande to his chaunce." 740 

" Brother, in swich a forthward take him to the ; 

And by thi fader soule, that the bygat and me, 

But if he be redy whan the justice sitte, 

Thou schalt here the juggement for al thi grete witte.'* 

" I graunte wel," seide sir Ote, " that it so be. 

Let delyver him anon, and tak him to me." 

Tho was Gamelyn delyvered to sire Ote his brother ; 

And that night dwelleden that on with that other. 

On the morn seyde Gamelyn to sire Oto the heende, 

"Brother," he seide, "I moot for sothe from the 

wende, 750 

To loke how my yonge men leden here lyf, 
Whether they lyven in joie or elles in stryf." 
** Be God I " seyde sire Ote, *' that is a cold reed, 
Now I see that al the cark schal fallen on myn heed ; 
For whan the justice sitte, and thou be nought 

y-founde, 
I schal anon be take, and in thy stede i-bounde." 
** Brother," sayde Gamelyn, ** dismaye the nought, 
For by seint Jame in Gales, that many man hath 

sought. 
If that God almighty hold my lyf and witt, 
I wil be ther redy whan the justice sitt." 760 

Than seide sir Ote to Gamelyn, " God schilde the fro 

schame; 
Com whan thou seest tyme, and bring us out of 

blame." 
Litheth, and lestneth, and holdeth you stille, 
And ye schul here how Gamelyn had al his wille. 
Gamelyn wente agein under woode rys. 
And iond there pleying yonge men of prys. 
Tho was yonge Gamelyn glad and blithe ynough. 
Whan he fond his merv men under woode bough. 

io 



146 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Gamelyn and his men talked in feere, 
And they hadde good game here maister to heere ; 770 
They tolden him of aventures that they hadde founde, 
And Gamelyn hem tolde agein how he was fast 

i-bounde. 
Whil Gamelyn was outlawed, had he no cors ; 
There was no man that for him ferde the wors, 
But abbotes and priours, monk and chanoun ; 
On hem left he nothing whan he might hem nom. 
Whil Gamelyn and his men made merthes ryve, 
The fals knight his brother, yvel mot he thryve ! 
For he was fast about bothe day and other, 
For to hyre the quest, to hangen his brother. 780 

Gamelyn stood on a day, and as he biheeld 
The woodes and the schawes in the wiJde feeld, 
He thought on his brother how he him beheet 
That he wolde be redy whan the justice seet ; 
He thoughte wel that he wolde, withoute delay, 
Come afore the justice to kejDen his day, 
And seide to his yonge men, " Dighteth you yare, 
For whan the justice sit, we moote be thare. 
For I am under borwe til that I come, 
And my brother for me to prisoun schal be nome." 790 
" By seint Jame ! " seyde his yonge men, " and thou 

rede therto, 
Ordeyne how it schal be, and it schal be do." 
Whil Gamelyn was comyng ther the justice sat. 
The fals knight his brother, forgat he nat that. 
To huyre the men on his quest to hangen his brother ; 
Though he hadde nought that oon, he wolde have that 

other. 
Tho cam Gamelyn fro under woode rys. 
And broughte with him his yonge men of prys. 

*' I se wel," seyde Gamelyn, " the justice is sette ; 
Go aforn, Adam, and loke how it spette." 800 

Adam went into the halle, and loked al aboute, 
He seyh there stonde lordes gret and stoute, 
And sir Ote his brother fetered wel fast : 
Tho went Adam out of halle, as he were agast. 
Adam said to Gamelyn, and to his felaws alle, 
" Sir Ote stant i-fetered in the moot halle." 
'* Yonge men," seide Gamelyn, " this ye heeren alle % 
Sire Ote stant i-fetered in the moot halle. 
If God gif us grace wel fur to doo, 

775. abbotes. Gamelyn's enmity to abbots and monks is entirely in chai> 
acter with the Robin Hood ballads ; it wae the feeling of the age. 



THE COKES TALE OF GAMEL.YN. 147 

He schal it abegge that broughte him thertoo." 810 

Thanne saj^de^dam, that lokkes hadde hore, 

" Cristas curs most he hav^e that him bond so sore ! 

And thou wilt, Gamelyn, do after my red, 

Ther is noon in the halle schall bere awey his heed." 

*' Adam," seyde Gamelyn, " we wihi nought don so, 

We wil slee the giltyf, and lat the other go. 

I wil into the halle, and with the justice speke ; 

On hem that ben gultyf I wil ben awreke. 

Lat non skape at the dore ; take, yonge men, yeme ; 

For I wil be justice this day domes to deme. 820 

God spede me this day at my newe werk ! 

Adam, com on with me, for thou schalt be my clerk." 

His men answereden him and bad him doon his best, 

*' And if thou to us have neede, thou schalt fynde uS 

prest ; 
We wiln stande with the, whil that we may dure, 
And but we werke manly, pay us non hure." 
" Yonge men," seyde Gamelyn, "so mot I wel the I 
As trusty a maister ye schal fynde of me." 
Right there the justice sat in the halle, 
In wente Gamelyn amonges hem alle. 830 

Gamelyn leet unfetere his brother out of beende. 
Thanne seyde sire Ote, his brother that was heende, 
"Thou haddest almost, Gamelyn, dwelled to longe. 
For the quest is oute on me, that I schulde honge." 
"Brother," seyde Gamelyn, "so God gif me good 

rest I 
This day they schuln ben hanged that ben on thy 

quest ; 
And the justice bothe that is jugges man, 
And the scherreve bothe, thurgh him it bigan." 
Than seyde Gamelyn to the justise, 
" Now is thy power y-don, thou most nedes arise ; 840 
Thow hast geven domes that ben yvel dight, 
I wil sitten in thy sete, and dressen hem aright." 
The justice sat stille, and roos nought anoon ; 
And Gamelyn clevede his cheeke boon ; 
Gamelyn took him in his arm, and no more spak. 
But threw him over the barre, and his arm to-brak. 
Durste non to Gamelyn seye but good, 
For-fered of the company that withoute stood. 
Gamelyn sette him doun in the justices sete, 
And sire Ote his brother by him, and Adam at his 

feet. 850 

Whan Gamelyn was i-set in the justices stede, 
Herkneth of a bourde that Gamelyn dede. 



148 TBE CANTERBURY TALES. 



He leet fetre the justice and his fals brother, 

And dede hem come to the barre, tl^t oon with that 

other. 
Tho Gamelyn hadde thus y-doon, had he no rest, 
Til he had enquered who was on the quest 
For to deme his brother, sir Ote, for to honge ; 
Er he wiste which they were it thoughte ful longe. 
But as sone as Gamelyn wiste wher they were, 
He dede hem everichone fetere in feere, 860 

And bringen hem to the barre, and sette hem in rewe; 
" By my faith ! " seyde the justice, " the scherreve is a 

schrewe." 
Than seyde Gamelyn to the justise, 
" Thou hast y-geve domes of the wors assise. 
And the twelve sisours that weren of the queste, 
Theyschul ben hanged this day, so have I reste." 
Thanne seide the scherreve to yonge Gamelyn, 
" Lord, I crie the mercy, brother art thou myn." 
** Therfore," seyde Gamelyn, "have thou Cristes curs, 
For and thou were maister, yit I schulde have wors." 
But for to make short tale, and nought to tarie longe, 
He ordeyned him a queste of his men so stronge ; 872 
The justice and the scherreve bothe honged bye. 
To weyven with rojDCS and with the wynd drye ; 
And the twelve sisours, sorwe have that rekke I 
Alle they were hanged faste by the nekke. 
Thus ended the fals knight with his treccherie, 
That ever had i-lad his lyf in falsnes and folye ; 
He was hanged by the nek, and nought by the purs. 
That was the meede that he had for his fadres curs. 
Sire Ote was eldest, and Gamelyn was ying, 881 

They wenten with here freendes even to the kyng ; 
They made pees with the kyng of the best assise. 
The kyng loved wel sir Ote and made him a justise. 
And after the kyng made Gamelyn, bothe in est and 

west. 
Chef justice of al his fre forest ; 

Alle his wighte yonge men the kyng forgaf here gilt, 
And sitthen in good office the kyng hem hath i-pilt. 
Thus wan Gamelyn his lond and his leede. 
And wrak him of his enemys, and quyt hem here 

meede, 890 

And sire Ote his brother made him his heir. 
And siththen wedded Gamelyn a wyf bothe good and 

feyr; 
They lyveden togidere whil that Crist wolde. 
And sithen was Gamelyn graven under moolde. 



THE MAN OF L AWES PROLOGE. 149 



And so schal we alle, may ther no man fle : 
God bryng us to the joye that ever schal be I 

THE MAN OF LAWE3 PROLOGE. 

OwRE Hoste sawh that the brighte sonne 
The arke of his artificial day hath i-ronne 
The fourthe part, of half an hour and more ; 
And though he were nat depe expert in lore, 
He wist it was the eightetene day 
Of April, that is messanger to May ; 
And sawe wel that the schade of every tree 
Was in the lengthe the same quantite 
That was the body erecte, that caused it ; 
And therfore by the schadwe he took his wit, 4430 

That Phebus, which that schoon so fair and bright, 
Degrees was five and fourty clombe on hight ; 
And for that day, as in that latitude, 
It was ten of the clokke, he gan conclude ; 
And sodeynly he plight his hors aboute. 
•' Lordynges," quod he, " I warne you al the route. 
The fourthe party of this day is goon ; 
Now, for the love of God and of seint Jon, 
Leseth no tyme, as forthe as ye may. 
Lordynges, the tyme passeth night and day, 4440 

And stelith fro us, what pryvely slepyng. 
And what thurgh necligence in oure wakyng. 
As doth the streem, that torneth never agayn, 
Descendyng fro the mounteyn into playn. 
Wel can Senek and many philosopher 
Bywaylen time, more than gold in cofre. 
For losse of catel may recovered be. 
But losse of tyme schendeth us, quod he. 
It wil nat come agayn, withoute drede, 
Nomore than wol Malkyns maydenhede, 4450 

Whan sche had lost it in hir wantownesse. 
Let us nat mowlen thus in ydelnesse. 

** Sir Man of La we," quod he, " so have ye blisse, 
Telle us a tale anon, as forward ys» 
Ye be submitted thurgh your fre assent 
To stonden in this cas at my juggement. 
Acquyteth yow, and holdeth youre byheste ; 

4425. eightetene. This is the reading in which the Mss. seem mostly to 
agree. The Ms. Harl. reads threttenthe. Tyrwhitt has eighte and twenty. 

4440. passeth- Most of the mss. read icasteih. 

4445. Malkyns maydenhede. This appears to have been a proverbial say- 
ing, and occurs in Fiers Ploughman. 



150 rilE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Than have ye doon your devour atte leste." 
'* Host," quod he, " depardeux, I assent ; 
To breke forward is nat rayn entent. 4460 

Byheste is dette, and I wol holde fayn 
Al my byhest, I can no better sayn. 
For such lawe as a man geveth another wight, 
He schuld himselve usen it by right. 
Thus wol oure text : but natheles certeyn 
I can right now non other tale seyn. 
That Chaucer, they he can but lewedly 
On metres and on rymyng craftely, 
Hath seyd hem in such Englisch as he can, 
Of olde tyme, as knoweth many man. 4470 

And gif he have nought sayd hem, leeve brother, 
In o bok, he hath seyd hem in another. 
For he hath told of lovers up and doun, 
Moo than Ovide made of mencioun 
In his Epistelles, that ben so olde. 
What schuld I tellen hem, syn they be tolde ? 
In youthe he made of Ceys and Alcioun, 
And siththe hath he spoke of everychon 
These noble wyfes, and these lovers eeke. 
Who so wole his large volume seeke, 4480 

Cleped the seintes legende of Cupide ; 
Ther may he see the large woundes wyde 
Of Lucresse, and of Babiloun Tysbee ; 
The sorwe of Dido for the fals Enee ) 
The tree of Philles for hir Demephon ; 
The pleynt of Dyane and of Ermyon, 
Of Adrian, and of Ysyphilee ; 
The barreyn yle stondyng in the see ; 
The dreynt Leandere for his fayre Erro ; 
The teeres of Eleyn, and eek the woo 4490 

Of Bryxseyde, and of Ledomia ; 
The ci'uelte of the queen Medea, 
The litel children hangyng by the hals. 
For thilke Jason, that was of love so fals. 
O Ypermystre, PenoUope, and Alceste, 
Youre wyfhood he comendeth with the beste. 
But certeynly no worde writeth he 
Of thilke wikked ensample of Canace, 

4477. Ceys and Alcioun. This story forms the introduction to the Boke oj 

*4481. Legende of Cupide. This is the poem more frequently entitled the 

Legende of good women. ,.. m -u-** a ♦.„ 

4486. Dyane. The Ms. Lansd. reads Dianyre, which Tyrwhitt adopts. 

The readings are very various, and not easy to be reconciled. . . ., , 

4498. Canace. This aad the story of Apollonius of Tyre are told m Crower u 

Confessio Amantis, whence it has been supposed that Chaucer intended here 



rJIE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 151 

That loved hir owen brother synfuUy ; 

On whiche corsed stories I seye fy ; 4500 

Or elles of Tyro Appoloneus, 

How that the cursed kyng Anteochus 

Byreft his doughter of hir maydenhede, 

That is so horrible a tale for to reede, 

Whan he hir threw upon the pament. 

And therfore he of ful avysement 

Wolde never wryte in nbn of his sermouns 

Of such unkynde abhominaciouns ; 

Ne I wol non reherse, if that I raay. 

But of my tale how schal I do this day ? 4510 

Me were loth to be lykned douteles 

To Muses, that men clepen Pyerides, 

{Methamorphoseos wot what I mene); 

But natheles I recche nat a bene, 

They I come after him with hawe-bake, 

I speke in prose, and let him rymes make." 

And with that word, he with a sobre cheere 

Bygan his tale, as ye schal after heere. 

THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 

O HATEFUL harm, condicioun of povert, 4519 

With thurst, with cold, with honger so confoundyd. 
To asken help it schameth in thin hert, 
If thou non aske, with neede so art thou woundyd. 
That verray neede unwrappeth al thy wounde hyd ; 
Maugre thyn heed tliou most for indigence 
Or stele, or begge, or borAve thy dispence. 

Thow blamest Crist, and seyst ful bitterly, 

to blame that writer— a notion for which there appears to be no good founda- 
tion. The story of Apollonius was very popular in the middle ages, and was 
published in a variety of forms. 

4512. Pyerides. ""He rather means, I think, the daughters of Pierus, who 
contended with the Muses, and were changed into pies. Ovid. Metam. 1, v." 
— Tyrtohitt. 

The Man of Latves Tale. This tale was probably taken direct from a 
French romance. All the incidents in it are of frequent occurrence in me- 
dieval stories. The whole story is found in Gower ; and a similar story 
forms the plot of the romance of Emare (printed in Kitson's Metrical Ro- 
mances). The treachery of King Alla's mother enters into the French 
romance of the Chevalier au eigne, and into the still more ancient Anglo- 
Saxon romance of King Offa, preserved in a Latin form by Matthew Paris. 
It is also found in the Italian collection, said to have been composed in 1378, 
under the title of II Pecorone di ser Giovaniti Fiorentino (an imitation of the 
l>ecameron), gior. x. No. 1. The treason of the knight who murders Her- 
mengilde is an incident in the French Roman de la Violette ; and in the Eng- 
lish metrical romance of Le bone Florence of Rome (printed in Kitson's collec- 
tion) ; and is found in the English Gesta Romanorum, c. 69 (ed. Madden), 
joined in the latter place with Constance's adventure with the steward. It ia 
also found in Vincent of Beauvais, and other writers. Gower's version ap- 

Seara to be taken from the French chronicle of Nicolas Trivet, Ms. ArundeL 
[O. 56, fol. 46 VO. 



152 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



lie mysdeparteth riches temporal ; 

And thyn neyhebour thou wytes synfully ; 

And seyst thou hast to htel, and he hath al. 

Parfay, seystow, som tyme he rekne schal, 4580 

Whan tliat his tayl schal brennen in the gleede, 

For he nought helpeth the needful in his neede. 

Ilerkneth what is the sentens of the wyse, 
Bet is to dye than have indigence ; 
Thy selve neyghebour wol the despyse. 
If thou be pore, farwel thy reverence. 
Yet of the wyse man tak this sentence, 
Alle the dayes of pore men be wikke ; 
Be war therfore or thou come to that prikke. 

If thou be pore, thy brother hateth the, 4340 

And alle thy frendes fleeth fro the, alias ! 
O riche marchaundz, ful of wele be ye, 

noble prudent folk as in this cas, 
Youre bagges beth nat fuld with ambes aas, 

But with sys synk, that renneth on your chaunce ; 
At Crystemasse wel mery may ye daunce. 

Ye seeke land and see for youre wynnyngeSy 
As wyse folk as ye knowe alle thastates 
Of regnes, ye be fadres of tydynges. 
Of tales, bothe of pees and of debates. 4550 

1 were right now of tales desolat, 

Nere that a marchaunt, gon siththen many a yere, 
Me taught a tale, which ye schal after heere. 

In Surrie dwelled whilom a companye 
Of chapmen riche, and therto sad and trewe, 
That wyde where sent her spycerye. 
Clothes of gold, and satyn riche of hewe. 
Her chaff ar was so thrifty and so newe, 
That every wight had deynte to chaffare 
With hem, and eek to selle hem of here ware. 4560 

Now fel it, that the maystres of that sort 
Han schapen hem to Rome for to wende. 
Were it for chapmanhode or for disport, 
Non other message nolde they thider sende, 
But came hemselfe to Rome, this is the ende ; 
And in such place as thought hem avauntage 
For here entent, they tooke her herburgage. 

Sojourned have these marchauntz in the toun 
A certeyn tyme, as fel to here plesaunce. 

4534. Bet is to dye. This saying of Solomon is quoted in the Jiomaii <ie la 
Bose, as cited by Tyrwhitt : 

Mieux vault mourir que pauvres astroo, 



TEE MAN OF LA WES TALE. 1^3 

But so bifell, that thexcellent renoun 4570 

Of themi)eroures doughter dame Custaunce 
Reported was, with every circumstaunce, 
Unto these Surrienz marchauntz, in such wyse 
Fro day to day, as I schal you devyse. 

This was the comyn voys of every man : 
" Oure emperour of Rome, God him see ! 
A doughter hath, that, sith the world bygan, 
To rekne as wel hir goodnes as hir bewte, 
Nas never such another as was sche. 
I prey to God hir save and susteene, 4580 

And wolde sche were of al Europe the queene. 

" In hire is hye bewto, withoute pryde ; 
Yowthe, withoute grefhed or folye ; 
To alle hire werkes vertu is hire gyde ; 
Humblesse hath slayne in hir tyrrannye ; 
Sche is myrour of alle curtesye, 
Hir herte is verrey chambre of holynesse, 
Hir hond mynistre of fredom and ahnesse." 

And al this voys is soth, as God is trewe. 
But now to purpos let us turne agein : 4590 

These marchantz have don fraught here schippes newe, 
And whan they have this blisful mayde seyn, 
Home to Surrey be they went agein, 
And doon here needes, as they have don yore, 
And lyven in wele, I can you say no more. 

Now fel it, that these marchauntz stooden in grace 
Of him that was the sowdan of Surrye. 
For whan they come fro eny straunge place, 
He wolde of his benigne curtesye 

Make hem good chere, and busily aspye 4600 

Tydynges of sondry regnes, for to lere 
The wordes that they mighte seen and heere. 

Among other thinges specially 
These marchauntz him told of dame Constaunce 
So gret noblesse, in ernest so ryally, 
That this sowdan hath caught so gret plesaunce 
To have hir figure in his remembraunce, 
That al his lust, and al his besy cure, 
Was for to love hir, whiles his lyf may dure. 

Paraventure in thilke large booke, 4610 

Which that is cleped the heven, i- write was 
With sterres, whan that he his burthe took, 
That he for love schulde have his deth, alias I 
For in the sterres, clerere then is glas, 

4614. in the eterres. See before, 1. 2039. Chaucer seems to have had hi his 
eye iu the following stanza a passage of the Meqacosmus of Bernardus Silves- 



11:4 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Is wry ten, God woot, who so cowthe it rede, 
The deth of every man, withouten drede. 

In sterres many a wynter therbyfore, 
Was write the deth of Ector and Achilles, 
Of Pompe, Julius, er they were i-bore ; 
The stryf of Thebes, and of Ercules, 4620 

Of Sampson, Turnus, and of Socrates 
The deth ; but mennes wittes ben so dulle, 
That no wight can wel rede it at the fulle. 

This sowdan for his pryve counseil sent, 
And schortly of this mater for to pace. 
He hath to hem declared his entent, 
And seyd hem certeyn, but he might have grace 
To have Constance withinne a litel sj^ace, 
He nas but deed, and charged hem in hyghe 
To schapen for his lyf som remedyo. 4630 

Dyversc men divers thinges seyde, 
The argumentes casten up and doun ; 
Many a subtyl resoun forth they ley den ) 
They spekyn of magike, and of abusioun ; 
But fynally, as in conclusioun, 
They can nought seen in that non avauntage, 
Ne in non other wey, save in mariage. 

Than sawgh they therin such diflBculte 
By wey of resoun, to speke it al playn, 
Bycause that tlier was such dyversite 4640 

Bit wen here bothe lawes, as they sayn, 
They trowe that " no cristen prince wold fayn 
Wedden his child under our lawe swete, 
That us was taught by Mahoun oure prophete." 

And he answerde : " Rather than I lese 
Constance, I wol be cristen douteies ; 
I moot be heres, I may non other cheese ; 
I pray you haldeth your arguments in pees, 
Saveth my lyf, and beth nat recheles. 

tris, a rather popular Latin poet of the twelfth century. Some of these linefi 
are quoted in the margin of Ms. Lansd. 

Prsejacet in stellis series, quam longior a;tas 

Explicet et spatiis teinporih ordo suis, 
Sceptra Phoronei, fratrum discordia Thebis, 

Flamma Phaethontis, Deucalionis aquie. 
In stellis Codri paupertas, copia Crcesi, 

Incestus Paridis, Hippolyiique pudov. 
In stellis Priami species, audacia Turni, 

Sensas Ulyxeus, Herculeusque vigor. 
In stellis pugil est Pollux, et navita Typhis, 

Et Cicero rhetor, et geometra Thales. 
In stellis lepidum dictat IMaro, Milo ligurat, 

Pulj^urat in Lalia nobilitate Nero. 
Afltra uotat Persis, .^gjptus parturit artcs, 

Gracia docta legit, prselia lioma g^v'it. 



THE MAN OF LA WES TALE. iO«j 

Goth, geteth hire that hath my lyf in cure, 4650 

For in this wo I may no lenger dure." 

What needeth gretter dilatacioun ? 
I say, by tretys and ambassatrye, 
And by the popes mediacioun. 
And al the chirche, and al the chyvalrye, 
That in destruccioun of mawmetrye, 
And in encresse of Cristes lawe deere, 
They ben acordid, as ye schal after heere. 

How that the soudan and his baronage. 
And alle his lieges schuld i-crystned be, 4660 

And he schal have Constance in mariage, 
And certeyn gold, I not what quantity, 
And therfore founden they sufflsant seurte. 
This same acord was sworn on every syde ; 
Now, fair Constance, almighty God the guydu ! 

Now wolde som men wayten, as I gesse, 
That I schulde tellen al the purvyaunce, 
That themperour of his gret noblesse 
Hath schapen for his doughter dame Constaunoo. 
Wei may men knowe that so gret ordynaunce 467C 
May no man telle in so litel a clause, 
As was arrayed for so high a cause. 

Bisschops ben schapen with liir for to wende, 
Lordes, ladyes, and knightes of renoun, 
And other folk ynowe, this is the ende. 
And notefied is thurghout the toun. 
That every wight with gret devocioun 
Schulde preye Crist, that he this mariage 
Receyve in gree, and spede this viage. 

The day is come of hire departyng, 4080 

(I say the woful day that than is' come) 
That ther may be no lenger taryyng. 
But forthe-ward they dresse hem alle and some. 
Constance, that with sorwe is overcome, 
Ful pale arist, and dresseth hir to wende. 
For wel sche saugh ther nas non other ende. 

Alias ! what wonder is it though sche wepte. 
That schal be sent to straunge nacioun. 
Fro freendes, that so tenderly hir kepte, 
And to be bounde undur subjeccioun 4690 

Of oon sche knew nat his condicioun ? 
Housbondes ben al goode, and ban be yore ; 
That knowen wyfes, I dar say no more. 

"Fader," sche seid, "thy wrecched child Coi*- 
staunce, 
Thy yonge doughter fostred up so softe, 



io6 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And ye, my mooder, my soverayn plesaunce 

Over al thing, outaken Crist on lofte, 

Constaunce your child hir recomaundeth ofte 

Unto your grace ; for I schal into Surrye, 

Ne schal I never see you more with ye. 47CQ 

" Alias ! unto the Barbre nacioun 
I most anoon, sethens it is your wille : 
But Crist, that starf for our redempcioun. 
So geve me grace his hestes to fulfille, 
I, wrecched womman, no fors they I spille I 
Wommen ben born to thraldam and penaunce,' 
And to ben under mannes governaunce." 

I trowe at Troye whan Pirrus brak the wal, 
Or Yleon that brend Thebes the citee, 
Ne at Rome for the harme thurgh Hanibal, 4710 

That Romayns have venquysshed tymes thre, 
Nas herd such tender wepyng for pite. 
As in the chambur was for hir partyng ; 
But forth sche moot, whether sche weep or syng. 

O firste mevyng cruel firmament, 
With thi diurnal swough that crowdest ay, 
And hurlest al fro est to Occident, 
That naturelly wold hold another way ; 
Thyn crowdyng sette the lieven in such array 
At the bygynnyng of this fiers viage, 472U 

That cruel Martz hath slayn this marriage. 

Infortunat ascendent tortuous, 
Of which the lordes helples falle, alias I 
Out of his angle into the derkest hous. 
O Mariz Attezere, as in this caas ; 
O feble moone, unhappy been thi paas, 
Thou knettest the ther thou art nat receyved, 
Ther thou were wel fro thennes artow weyved. 

Inprudent emperour of Rome, alias ! 
Was ther no philosopher in al thy toun ? 4730 

Is no tyme bet than other in such caas ? 
Of viage is ther noon eleccioun, 

4715. firste mevyng. '^he following note is written in the marpn of the 
LauBd. Mb. " Unde Tholomeus, libro primo, capitulo 8 : Primi motus coeli 
duo sunt, quorum unus est qui movettotum semper ab oriente in ocoidentem 
uno mode super orbes, etc. Alter vero mot is est qui movet orbem stellarum 
eurrentium contra motum primum, viz. ab Occidents in orientem super alios 
duos polos, etc." ^ „, 

4725. O Mariz Attezere. The readings of the MSS. vary much. Tyrwhitt 
reads Mars, O Atyzar. I have followed the Harl. Ms. It would require a 
deeper knowledge of medieval astrology than I possess to correct it withaujJ 
certainty, or to determine if it need correction. 

47a2. eleccimtn. Tiie marginal note in the Lansd. Mrf- quoted abovfi, adds, 
"Omnes enim s^unt concordati quod eiectiones siiit debiles, nisi in divit'f''"R ; 
habent euim isu, licet debilitentur eoriim eiectiones, raUicem, .i. «. *i«iUVi- 



THE MAN OF LA WES TALE. 15? 

Namly to folk of heigh condicioun, 
Nought whan a roote is of birthe i-knowe ? 
-Alias I we ben to lewed, and eek to slowe. 

To schippe is brought this woful faire mayde 
Solempnely, with every circumstaunce. 
" Now Jhesu Crist so be with you," sche sayde. 
Ther nys nomor, but farwel, fair Custaunce ; 
Sche peyneth hire to make good contienaunce. 4740 
And forth I lete hire sayle in this nianere, 
And torne I wol agein to my matiere. 

The moder of the sowdan, ful of vices, 
Aspyed hath hir sones playn entente, 
How he wol lete his olde sacrifices ; 
And right anoon sche for hir counseil sent, 
And they ben come, to knowe what sche mem , 
And whan assembled was this folk in fere, 
Sche sette hir doun, and sayd as ye schal heere. 

'* Lordes," quod sche, " ye knowen everichon, 4750 
How that my sone in poynt is for to lete 
The holy lawes of our Alkaroun, 
Geven by Goddes messangere Makamete ; 
But oon avow to grete God I hete, 
The lyf schuld rather out of my body stert, 
Or Makametes law go out of myn hert. 

" What schal us tyden of this newe lawe 
But thraldam to oure body and penaunce, 
And afterward in helle to be drawe, 
For we reneyed Mahound oure creaunce ? 4760 

But, lordes, wol ye maken assuraunce. 
As I schal say, assentyng to my lore ? 
And 1 schal make us sauf for evermore." 

They sworen and assenten every man 
To lyf with hir and dye, and by hir stonde ; 
And everich in the beste wise he can 
To strengthen hir schal all his frendes fonde, 
And sche hath emperise take on lionde, 
Which ye schul heere that I schal devyse, 
And to hem alle sche spak in this wyse : 4770 

*' We schul first feyne ous cristendom to take ; 
Cold watir schal nat greve us but a lite ; 
And I schal such a fest and revel make, 

iates eorum quae confortant oranem planetam debilem in itinere : haec phi- 
loBophus." Tyrwhitt gives this from another MS. It is taken from the 
Liber electiomim of Zahel, of wliich there is a copy in Ma. llarl. Ko. 80. The 
above pasisage occurs at fol. 68 vo. 

4752. Alkaroun. The Koran was translate into Latin in the 12th century, 
and it and the history of its author Mohamutd were subjects of interest in 
the Weet. 



158 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

That, as I trow, I schal the sowdan quyte. 
For though his wyf be cristned never so white, 
Sche schal have need to waissche away the rede, 
They sche a font of watir with hir lede." 

O sowdones, root of iniquite, 
Virago thou SemjTam the secounde ; 
O serpent under feminite, 4780 

Lyk to tlie serpent deep in helle i-bounde ; 
O feyned womnian, alle that may confounde 
Vertu and innocence, thurgh thy maUce, 
Is bred in the, as nest of every vice. 

O Satan envyous, syn thilke day 
That thou were chased fro oure heritage, 
Wei knewest thou to wommen the olde way. 
Thou madest Eve to bryng us in servage, 
Thou wolt fordoon this cristen mariage. 
Thyn instrument so (weylaway the while ! ) 4790 

Makestow of wommen whan thou wolt bygyle. 

This sowdones, whom I thus blame and wary. 
Let prively hir counseil gon his way ; 
What schuld I in this tale lenger tary ? 
Sche rideth to the soudan on a day. 
And seyd him, that sche wold reney hir lay, 
And cristendam of prestes handes fonge, 
Repentyng hir sche hethen was so longe ; 

Bysechyng him to doon hir that honour, 
That sche most have the cristen men to feste ; 4800 
" To plesen hem I wil do my labour." 
The sowdan seith, '' I wol do at your heste," 
And knelyng, thanketh hir of that requeste ; 
So glad he was, he nyst nat what to seye. 
Sche kyst hir sone, and hom sche goth hir weye. 

Arryved ben the cristen folk to londe 
In Surry, with a gret solempne route. 
And hastily this sowdan sent his sonde. 
First to his moder, and al the regne aboute, 4810 

And seyd, his wyf was comen out of doute. 
And preyeth hir for to ride agein the queene, 
The honour of his regne to susteene. 

Gret was the prees, and riche was th array 
Of Surriens and Romayns mette in feere. 
The mooder of the sowdan riche and gay 
Receyved hir with al so glad a cheere, 
As eny mooder might hir doughter deere ; 
And to the nexte citee ther bysyde 
A softe paas solempnely thay ryde. 

Nought trow I the triumphe of Julius, 4830 



THE MAN OF LAWES TALE 159 

Of which that Lukan inaketh luoche host, 
Was ryaller, ne more curious, 
Than was thassemble of this bhsful oost. 
But this scorpioun, this wikked goost, 
The sowdones, for al hir flateryng, 
Cast under this ful mortally to styng. 

The sowdan comth himself sone after this 
So really, that wonder is to telle ; 

And welcometh hir with al joy and blys. 4829 

And thus with mirth and joy I let hem dwelle. 
The fruyt of this matier is that I telle. 
Whan tyme com, men thought it for the best 
That revel stynt, and men goon to her rest. 

The tyme com, the olde sowdonesse 
Ordeyned hath this fest of which I told ; 
And to the feste cristen folk hem dresse 
In general, bothe yong and old. 
Ther men may fest and realte byholde, 
And deyntes mo than I can of devyse, 4340 

But al to deere they bought it ar they ryse. 

O sodeyn wo 1 that ever art successour 
To worldly biis, spreynd is with bitternesse 
The ende of oure joye, of oure worldly labour ; 
Wo occupieth the fyn of oure gladnesse. 
Herken this counseil for thyn sikernesse ; 
Upon thyn glade dayes have in thi mynde 
The unwar woo that cometh ay bihynde. 

For schortly for to tellen at o word. 
The sowdan and the cristen everichone 
Ben al to-hewe and stiked atte bord, 4860 

But it were dame Constaunce allone. 
This olde sowdones, this cursed crone, 
Hath with hir frendes doon this cursed dede, 
For sche hirself wold al the contre lede. 

Ne ther was Surrien noon that was converted. 
That of the counseil of the sowdon woot, 
That he nas al to-hewe or he asterted ; 
And Constaunce have they take anon foot-hoot, 
And in a schippe, stereles, God it woot. 
They have hir set, and bad hir lerne to sayle 4860 

Out of Surry agein-ward to Ytaile. 

4847. xinwar tooo. This is a good example of the manner in which corrup- 
tions of the text gain ground. Some one had apparently given or harm as a 
marginal gloss to woo; another scribe copied this into the text, and some MSS. 
(as the Lansd. Ms. and one of the Cambridge Mss.) have unwar wo or harme. 
This was again altered to make ai)parent sense, and Tyrwhitt has the line, 

Theunvtare wo of harm, that comdh bchindr,. 



160 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

A certein tresour that sche thider ladde, 
And, soth to sayn, vitaile gret plente, 
They have hir geven, and clothes eek sche hadde, 
And forth sche sayleth in the salte see. 
O my Constaunce, ful of benignite, 
O emperoures yonge doughter deere, 
He that is lord of fortun be thi steere I 

Sche blesseth hir, and with ful pitous voys 
Unto the croys of Crist than seyde sche : 4070 

** O cler, O welful auter, holy croys, 
Red of the lambes blood, ful of pite, 
That wissh the world fro old iniquite, 
Me fro the feend and fro his clowes keepe, 
That day that I schal drenchen in the deepe. 

*' Victorious tre, proteccioun of trewe. 
That oonly were worthy for to here 
The kyng of heven, with his woundes newe, 
The white lamb, that hurt was with a spere j 
Flemer of feendes, out of him and here 4380 

On which thy lymes feithfully extenden, 
Me kepe, and gif me might my lyf to menden " 

Yeres and dayes flette this creature 
Thurghout the see of Grece, into the strayte 
Of Marrok, as it was hir adventure. 
O many a sory mele may sche bayte, 
After hir deth ful ofte may sche wayte, 
Or that the wilde wawe wol hir dryve 
Unto the place ther as sche schal arryve. 

Men mighten aske, why sche was nought slayn ? 
Ek at the fest who might hir body save ? 4891 

And I answer to that demaunde agayn, 
Who saved Daniel in thorrible cave, 
That every wight, sauf he, mayster or knave, 
Was with the lioun frete, or he asterte ? 
No wight but God, that he bar in his herte. 

God lust to schewe his wundurful miracle 
In hir, for we schuld seen his mighty werkes ; 
Crist, which that is to every harm triacle, 
By certeyn menes ofte, as knowen clerkes, 4900 

Doth thing for certeyn ende, that ful derk is 
To mannes witt, that for our ignoraunce 
Ne can nought knowe his prudent purvyaunoe. 

Now sith sche was nat at the fest i-slawe, 
Who kepte hir fro drenching in the see ? 
Who kepte Jonas in the fisches mawe, 
Till he was spouted up at Ninive ? 
Wei may men knowe, it was no wight but he 



THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 161 

That kept the pepul Ebrayk fro her drenchyng, 
With drye feet thurghout the see passyng. 4910 

Who badde foure spiritz of tempest. 
That power ban to noyen land and see, 
Bothe north and south, and also west and est, 
Anoyen neyther londe, see, ne tree ? 
Sothly the comaunder of that was he 
That fro the tempest ay this womman kepte, 
As wel when sche awok as when sche slepte. 

Wher might this womman mete and drinke have ? 
Thre yer and more, how lasteth hir vitaille? 
Who fedde the Egipcien Marie in the cave, 4920 

Or in desert? no wight but Crist saunz fiaile. 
Fyf thousand folk it was a gret mervaile 
^'/:ih loves fyf and fissches tuo to feede ; 
fiod sent his foysoun at her grete neede. 

Sche dryveth forth into oure occean 
Thurghout oure wilde see, til £.tte last 
Under an holte, that nempnen I ne can, 
Fer in .Northumberland, the wawe hir cast, 
And in the sand the schip styked so fast, 
That thennes wold it nought in al a tyde ; 4950 

The wille of Crist was that sche schoVi abyde. 

The constabil of the castel doun is .'o,re 
To se this wrak, and al the schip he sought, 
And fond this wery womman ful of ce.re ; 
He fand also the tresour that sche brought ; 
In hir langage mercy sche bisought, 
The lif out of hir body for to twynne, 
Hir to dely ver of woo that sche was inne. 

A maner Latyn corupt was hir speche, 
But algates therby sche was understonde. 4940 

The constabil, whan him lust no lenger seche, 
This woful womman broughte he to londe. 
Sche kneleth doun, and thanketh Goddes sonde ; 
But what sche was, sche wolde no man seye 
For foul ne faire, though sche scholde deye. 
Sclie was, sche seyd, so mased in the see. 
That sche forgat hir mynde, by hiretrowthe. 
The constable had of hir so gret pitee, 
And eek his wyf, they wepeden for routhe ; 
Sche was so diligent withouteu .slouthe 4950 

To serve and plese ever in that place. 
That alle hir loven that loken on hir face. 

4927. tfiat 7iemj>nen I ne can. The ms reads that men nempne can. 

493y. a maner Latyn corupt. In the romance of Fnike fitz Warine (p. 91), 
vvhere a pretended niercbanl from the East comes to London, we are told,— 
** F,t quaii^u'il parla fust Latyn corupf, ni^ le meir le eutendy bien." 

u 



162 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

The constable and dame Hermegyld his wyf, 
To telle you playne, payenes bothe were ; 
But Hermegyld loved Constance as hir lyf ; 
And Constance hath so long herberwed there 
In orisoun, with many a bitter teere, 
Til Jhesu hath converted thurgh his grace 
Dame Hermegyld, the constables of the place. 

In al the lond no cristen men durst route j 4900 

Al cristen men ben fled from that contre 
Thurgh payens, that conquered al aboute 
The places of the north by land and see. 
To Wales fled the cristlanite 
Of olde Britouns, dwellyng in this yle j 
Ther was hir refut for the mene while. 

But yit nere cristen Britouns so exiled, 
That ther nere some in here pryvite 
Honoured Crist, and hethen folk bygiled ; 
And neigh the castel such ther dwellid thre. 4970 

That oon of hem was blynd, and might nat se, 
. But if it were with eyen of his mynde, 

With which men seen after that they ben blynde 

Bright was the sonne, as in someres day. 
For which the constable and his wif also 
And Constaunce had take the righte way 
Toward the see, a forlong wey or two, 
To pleyen, and to romen to and fro ; 
And in that walk this blynde man they mette, 
Croked and olde, with eyen fast y-schette. 4980 

" In name of Crist," cryed this old Britoun, 
" Dame Hermegyld, gif me my sight ageyn ! " 
This lady wax affrayed of the soun. 
Lest that hir houseband, schortly to sayn, 
Wold hir for Jhesu Cristes love have slayn, 
Til Constaunce made hir bold, and bad hir werche 
The wil of Crist, as doughter of holy chirche. 

The constable wax abaisshed of that sight. 
And sayde, '' What amounteth al this fare ? " 
Constaunce answered, " Sii, it is Cristes might, 4990 
That helpeth folk out of the feendes snare." 
And so ferforth sche gan hir lay declare, 
That sche the constable, er that it was eve 
Converted, and on Crist made him bileve. 

This constable was not lord of the place 

4964. Tyrwhitt gives (from other mss.) instead of this line, 
Were payenes, and that contree every wher. 
The Harl. Ms. has in.pey7ies for payenes. 



THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 163 

Of which I speke, ther he Constance fond, 

But kept it strongly many a wynter space 

Under Alia, kyiig of Northumberlond, 

That was ful wys, and worthy of his hond, 

Agein the Scott es, as men may wel heere. 500C 

But tourne agein I wil to my mateere. 

Satan, that ever us wayteth to begile, 
Sawe of Constaunce al hir perfeccioun, 
And cast anoon how he might quyt hir while ; 
And made a yong knight, that dwelt in the toun, 
Love hir so hoot of foul affeccioun. 
That verrayly him thought he schulde spille, 
But he of hire oones had his wille. 

He wo with hir, but it avayleth nought, 
Sche wolde do no synne by no weye ; 5010 

And for despyt, he compassed in his thought 
To maken hir a schamful deth to deye. 
He wayteth whan the constable was aweye, 
And pryvyly upon a nyght he crepte 
In Hermyngyldes chambre whil -sche slepte. 

Wery, for-waked in here orisoun, 
Slepeth Constaunce, and Hermyngyld also. 
This knight, thurgh Satanas temptacioun, 
Al softely is to the bed y-go, 

And kutte the throte of Hermegild a-two, 5020 

And leyd the bloody knyf by dame Constaunce, 
And went his way, ther God geve him meschaunce. 

Sone after comth this constable horn agayn, 
And eek Alia, that kyng was of that lond, 
And say his wyf dispitously i-slaj'n, 
For which ful oft he w^ept and wrong his hond ; 
And in the bed the blody knyf he fond 
By dame Custaunce : alias ! what might she say ? 
For verray woo hir witt was al away. 

To king Alia was told al this meschaunce, 5030 

And eek the tyme, and wlier, and in what wyse 
That in a schip was founden this Constaunce, 
As here bifore ye have herd me devyse. 
The kinges hert of pite gan agrise, 
Whan he saugh so benigne a creature 
Falle in disese and in mysaventure. 

For as tne lomb toward his deth is brought. 
So stant this innocent bifore the kyng. 

5015. Hermi/ngyldes. The orthography of the name varies in different 
Mbs. Ms. Laiub. has Ermenilda ; the two Cambridge Mss. used by me have, 
one, Ht"nnt)tchi/(ks, tlie other Hirimuyliih. It is the Saxon Eoiineiigild, 
which was the name of one of the daughters of Larcoiib. hrt, king of Kent. 
See Florence oj }\ Orctntcr. Perhaps this lonjance existed in a Teutonic cr 
even Anglo-Saxon original. 



164 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

This false knight, that hath this tresoun wrought, 
Bereth hiran hand that sche hath don this thing ; 
But nevertheles ther was gret murmuryng 5041 

Among the poeple, and seyn they can not gesse 
That sche had doon so gret a wikkednesse. 

For they han seyen hir so vertuous. 
And lovyng Hermegyld right as hir lyf ; 
Of this bar witnesse everich in that hous, 
Save he that Hermegyld slowgh with his knyf. 
This gen til kyng hath caught a gret motyf 
Of his witnesse, and thought he^ wold enquere 
Depper in this cas, a trouthe to lere. 5050 

Alias I Constaunce, thou ne has no champioun, 
Ne fighte canstow nat, so welaway 1 
But he that for oure redempcioun 
Bonde Sathan, and yit lith ther he lay. 
So be thystronge champioun this day; 
For but Crist upon the miracle kythe, 
Withouten gilt thou schalt be slayn as swithe. 

Sche set hir doun on knees, and than sche sayde, 
" Immortal God, that savedest Susanne 
Fro false blame ; and thou, mercyful mayde, 5060 

Mary I mene, doughter of seint Anne, 
Bifore whos child aungeles syng Osanne ; 
If I be gultles of this felonye, 
My socour be, for elles schal I dye 1 " 

Have ye not seye som tyme a pale face, 
Among a prees, of him that hath be lad 
Toward his deth, wher him geyneth no grace, 
And such a colour in his face hath had. 
Men mighte knowe his face was so bystad, 
Among alle the faces in that route ; 5070 

So stant Constance, and loketh hire aboute. 

O queenes lyvyng in prosperity. 
Duchesses, and ye ladies everychon, 
Haveth som reuthe on hir adversite ; 
An emperoures doughter stond allon ; 
Sche nath no wight to whom to make hir moon ; 
O blod ryal, that stondest in this drede, 
Ferre be thy frendes at thy grete neede ! 

This Alia kyng hath such compassioun, 
As gentil hert is fulfild of pite, 5080 

That from his eyen ran the water doun. 
" Now hastily do fech a book," quod he ; 
** And if this knight wil swere how that sche 

5067. him gryneth. Some of the MSS. have him geteth. Htm in ciisef) lik^ 
this answers to the Latin dative sibi ; he gaiueth /or himself. 



-" Vr MAN OF L A WES TALE. ^ ^ '^ 

This worn man slowgh, yet wol we us avyse, 
Whom that we wille schal be oure justise." 

A Britoun book, i-write with Evaungiles, 
Was fette, and on this book he swor anoon 
Scho gultif was ; and in the mene whiles - 
An hond him smot upon the nekke boon. 
That doun he fel anon right as astoon ; 5090 

And bothe his yen brast out of his face, 
In sight of every body in that place. 

A vols was herd, in general audience, 
And said, "Thou hast disclaundred gulteles 
The doughter of holy chirche in hire presence ; 
Thus hastow doon, and yit I holde my pees." 
Of this mervaile agast was al the prees. 
As mased folk they stooden everychon 
For drede of wreche, save Custaunce allon. 

Gret was the drede and eek the repentaunce 5100 
Of hem that hadden wrong suspeccioun 
Upon the sely innocent Custaunce ; 
And for this miracle, in conclusioun. 
And by Custaunces mediacioun, 
The kyng, and many other in the place, 
Converted was, thanked be Cristes grace ! 

This false knight was slayn for his untrouthe 
By juggement of Alia hastyly ; 
And yit Custaunce hath of his deth gret routhe. 
And after this Jhesus of his mercy 5110 

Made Alia wedde ful solempnely 
This holy mayde, that is bright and schene, 
And thus hath Crist-i-maad Constance a queene. 

But who was woful, if I schal not lye. 
Of this weddyng but Domegild and no mo. 
The kynges mooder, ful of tyrannye ? 
liir thought hir cursed herte brast a-two ; 
Sche wolde nat hir sone had i-do so ; 
Hir thought despyte, that he schulde take 
So straunge a creature unto his make. 5120 

Me lust not of the caf ne of the stree 
Make so long a tale, as of the corn. 
What schuld I telle of the realte 
Of this mariage, or which cours goth biforn, 
Who bloweth in a trompe or in an horn ? 
The fruyt of every tale is for to seye ; 
They ete and drynk, and daunce and synge and pleye. 

TUey gon to bed, as it was skile and right ) 
For tiiuLigh that wyfes ben ful holy thinges, 
Tiiey iiiosie take in pacience a-night 5130 



160 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Such maner necessaries as ben plesynges 
To folk that han i-wedded hem with lynges, 
And halvendel her holynesse ley aside 
As for the tyme, it may non other betyde. 

On hire he gat a knave child anoon, 
And to a bisschope, and to his constable ecke, 
He took his wyf to kepe, whan he is goon 
To Scotlond-ward, his foomen for to seeke. 
Now faire Custaunce, that is so humble and meeke, 
So long is goon with childe til that stille 5140 

Sche held hir chambre, abidyng Goddes wille. 

The tyme is come, a knave child sche bere ; 
Mauricius atte funtstone men him calle. 
This constabil doth come forth a messager, 
And wrot to his kyng that cleped was Alle, 
How that this blisful tydyng is bifalle, ^^ 

And other thinges spedful for to seye. 
He taketh the lettre, and forth he goth his weye. 

This messanger, to doon his avauntage, 
Unto the kynges moder he goth ful swithe, 5150 

And salueth hire fair in his langage. 
*' Madame," quod he, *' ye may be glad and blithe, 
And thanke God an hundred thousand sithe ; 
My lady queen hath child, withouten doute 
To joye and blis of al the reame aboate. 

" Lo heer the lettres sealed of this thing, 
That I mot bere with al the hast I may ; 
If ye wole ought unto youre sone the kyng, 5160 

I am youre servaunt bothe night and day." 
Doungyld answerde, " As now this tyme, nay ; 
But here al nyght I wol thou take thy rest, 
To morwen I wil say the what me lest." 

This messanger drank sadly ale and wyn, 
And stolen were his lettres pryvely 
Out of his box, whil he sleep as a swyn ; 
And countrefeet they were subtily ; 
Another sche him wroot ful synfully, 
Unto the kyng direct of this matiere 
Fro his constable, as ye schul after heere. 

The lettre spak, the queen delyvered was 5170 

Of so orryble and feendiy creature, 
That in the castel noon so hardy was 
That eny while dorste therin endure ; 
The mooder Vv^as an elf by aventure 
Eycome by charmes or by sorcerie, 
And every man hatith hir companye. 
$143. Mauricius. Tlie Ms. Harl. reads Maurius, by an error of the scrite 



THE MAN OF LAWEiS lALL. lU 

Wo was this kyng whan he this letter had sein, 
But to no wight lie told his sorwes sore, 
But of his owen hand he wrot agayn : 
" Welcome the sond of Crist for everemore 0180 

To me, that am now lerned in this lore ; 
Lord, welcome be thy lust and thy pleasaunce ! 
My lust I putte al in thyn ordinaunce. 

'* Kepeth this child, al be it foul or fair, 
And eek my wyf, unto myn honi comyng ; 
Crist whan him lust may sende me an hair 
More agreable than this to my likyng." 
This lettre he seleth, pryvyly wepyng. 
Which to the messager he took ful sone. 
And forth he goth, ther nys no more to done. 5190 

O messager, fulfild of dronkenesse. 
Strong is thy breth, thy lymes faltren ay, 
And thou bywreyst alle sykernesse ; 
Thy mynde is lorn, thou janglest as a jay ; 
Thy face is torned al in a newe array ; 
Ther drunkenesse regneth in eny route, 
Ther is no counseil hid, withouten doute. 

O Domegyld, I have non Englisch digne 
Unto thy malice and thy tyrannye ; 
And therfor to the feend I the resigne, 5200 

Let him endyten of thi treccherie. 
Fy, mannyssch, fy I — o nay, by God, I lye ; 
Fy, feendly spirit, for I dar wel telle. 
Though thou here walke, thy spirit is in helle. 

This messanger comth fro the kyng agayn, 
And at the kinges modres court he light, 
And sche was of this messenger ful fayn. 
And pleseth him in al that ever sche might. 
He drank, and wel his gurdel underpight ; 
He slepeth, and he fareth in his gyse 5210 

Al nyght, unto the sonne gan arise. 

Eft were his lettres stolen everichon, 
And countrefeted lettres in this wise : 
' The kyng comaundeth his constable anon, 
Up peyne of hangyng and of heigh justise. 
That he ne schulde suffre in no maner wyse 
Constaunce in his regne for to abyde 
Thre dayes, and a quarter of a tyde ; 

But in the same schip as he hir fond. 
Hire and hir yonge sone, and al hire gere, 5220 

He schulde putte, and crowde fro the londe, 
And charge hire that sche never eft come there." 
O my Constaunce, wei may thy goost have fere, 



168 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And slepyng in thy drem ben in penaunce, 
Whan Domegyld cast al this ordynaunce. 

This messanger a-morwe, whan he awook, 
Unto the castel held the nexte way ; 
And to the constable he the lettre took ; 
And whan that he the pitous lettre say, 
Ful ofte he seyd alias and welaway ; 52S0 

" Lord Crist," quod he, " how may this world endure ? 
So ful of synne is many a creature I 

O mighty God, if that it be thy wille, 
Seth thou art rightful jugge, how may this be 
That thou wolt suffre innocentz to spille, 
And wikked folk regne in prosperite ? 
O good Constance, alias ! so wo is me, 
That I moot be thy tormentour, or deye 
On schamful deth, ther is non other weye." 

Wepen bothe yong and olde in al that place, ' 5240 
Whan that the kyng this corsed lettre sent ; 
And Constance Avith a dedly pale face 
The fayre day toward hir schip sche went. 
But nevertheles sche taketh in good entent 
The wil of Christ, and knelyng on the grounde 
Sche sayde, " Lord, ay welcome be thy sonde I 

He that me kepte fro the false blame, 
Whil I was on the lond amonges you, 
He can me kepe from harm and eek fro schame 
In the salt see, although I se nat how ; 5250 

As strong as ever he was, he is right now, 
In him trust I, and in his mooder deere, 
That is to me my sayl and eek my steere." 

Hir litel child lay wepyng in hir arm? 
And knelyng pitously to him sche sayde . 
*' Pees, litel sone, I wol do the noon harm." 
With that hir kerchef of hir hed sche brayde, 
And over his litle eyghen sche it layde. 
And in hir arm sche luUith it wel faste, 
And unto heven hir eyghen up sche caste. 5260 

"Moder," quod sche, "and mayde bright, Marie, 
Soth is, that thurgh wommannes eggement 
Mankynde was lorn and dampned ay to dye, 
For which thy child was on a cros to-rent ; 
Thyn blisf ul eyghen sawh al this torment ; 
Then nys ther noon comparisoun bitwene 
Thy wo, and any woo may man sustene. 

" Thow saugh thy child i-slaw byfor thyn yen, 
And yit now lyveth my litel child, parfay ; 5269 

^43. fayre. Tyrwhitt h&s four the, perhaps correctly. 



THE MAN OP LAWES TALE, 169 



Now, lady bright, to whom alle woful cryen, 
Thou glory of woinmanhod, thou faire may, 
Thou heven of refute, brighte sterre of day, 

Rewe on my child, that of thyn gentilnesse 
Rewest on every synful in destresse. 

'* O litel child, alias ! what is thi gilt, 
That never wroughtest synne as yet, parde ? 
Why wil thyn harde fader han the spilt ? 
O mercy, deere constable," seyde sche, 
** And let my litel child here dwelle with the ; 
And if thou darst not saven him for blame, 5230 

So kys him oones in his fadres name." 

Therwith sche loketh bak-ward to the lond, 
And seyde, " Farwel, housbond rewtheles ! " 
And uii sche rist, and walketh doun the stronde 
Toward the schip, hir folweth al the prees ; 
And ever sche preyeth hir child to hold his pees, 
And took hir leve, and with an holy entent 
Sche blesseth hire, and to the schip sche went. 

Vytailled was the schip, it is no drede, 
Abundauntly for hire a ful longe space ; 5290 

And other necessaries that schulde nede 
Sche had ynowgh, heryed be Cristez grace ; 
For wynd and water almighty God purchace. 
And bryng hir hom, I can no bettre say, 
But in the see sche dryveth forth hir way. 

Alia the kyng comth hom soon after this 
Unto the castel, of the which I tolde, 
And asketh wher his wyf and his child ys. 
The constable gan aboute his herte colde, 
And playnly al the maner he him tolde 5300 

As ye han herd, I can telle it no better, 
And schewed the kynges seal and his letter ; 

And seyde, " Lord, as ye comaunded me 
Up peyne of deth, so have I do certayn." 
This messager tormented was, til he 
Moste biknowe and telle it plat and playn. 
Fro nyght to night in what place he had layn ; 
And thus by witt and subtil enqueryng 
Ymagined was by wham this gan to spryng. 

The hand was knowen that the lettre wroot, 5311 
And al the ve-nym of this cursed dede ; 
But in what wyse, certeynly I noot. 
Theffect is this, that Alia, out of drede, 
His moder slough, as men may pleynly reede, 
For that sche traytour was to hir ligeaurice. 
Thus endeth olde Domegild with meschaunce. 



170 THE CANTERBURY TALES 

The sorwe that this Alia night and day 
Makth for his wyf and for his child also, 
Ther is no tonge that it telle may. 

But now I wol unto Custaunce go, 5:i20 

That fleeteth in the see in peyne and wo 
Fyve yeer and raoro, as liked Cristes sonde, 
Er that hir schip approched unto londe. 

Under an hethen castel atte last, 
Of which the name in my text nought I fynde, 
Constaunce and eek hir child the see npeast. 
Almighty God, that saveth al mankynde, 
Have on Constaunce and on hir child som mynde ! 
That fallen is in hethen hond eftsone, 5329 

In poynt to spille, as I schal telle you soone. 

Doun fro the castel cometh many a wight. 
To gawren on this schip, and on Constaunce ; 
But schortly fro the castel on a night. 
The lordes sty ward, God give him meschaunce 1 
A theef that had reneyed oure creaunce, 
Com into schip alone, and seyd he scholde 
Hir lemman be, whethir sche wold or noldec 

Wo was this wrecched woniman tho bigoon, 
Hire childe crieth and sche pytously ; 
But blisful Mary hilp hir right anoon, 5b40 

For with hir stroglyng wel and mightily 
The theef fel over-boord al sodeinly, 
And in the see he drenched for vengaunce, 
And thus hath Crist unwemmed kept Constance. 

O foule lust, O luxurie, lo thin ende 1 
Nought oonly that thou feyntest mannes mynde 
But verrayly thou wolt his body schende. 
The ende of thyn werk, or of thy lustes blynde, 
Is compleynyng ; how many may men fynde, 5349 

That nought for werk som tyme, but for thentent 
To doon this synne, ben eyther slayn or schent I 

How may this weyke womman han the strengthe 
Hir to defende agein this renegat ? 
O Gohas, unmesurable of lengthe, 
How mighte David make the so mate ? 
So yong, and of armure so desolate, 
How dorst he loke upon thyn dredful face ? 
Wel may men seyn, it nas but Goddes grace. 

Who gaf Judith corage or hardynesse 
To slen him Olefernes in his tent, 5360 

And to delyveren out of wrecchednes 
The peple of God ? I say in this entent, 

6341. stroglyng. The Ms, Harl. reads strengths. 



THE MAN OF LA WES TALE. ill 



That right as God spiryte and vigor sent 
To hem, and saved lieiii out of meschaunce. 
So sent he might and vigor to Constaunce. 

Forth goth hir scliip thurghout the narwe month 
Of Jubalter and Septe, dryvyng ahvay, 
Som tyme west, and som tyme north and south, 
And som tyme est, ful many a wery day ; 
Til Cristes mooder, blessed be sche ay ! 5370 

ilath schapen thurgh hir endeles goodnesse 
To make an ende of hir hevynesse. 

Now let us stynt of Constance but a throwe, 
And speke we of the Romayn emperour, 
That out of Surrye hath by lettres knowe 
The slaughter of cristen folk, and deshonour 
Doon to his dough ter by a fals traytour, 
] mene the cursed wikked sowdenesse, 
That at the fest leet slee bothe more and lesse. 

For M'hich this emperour hath sent anoon 5380 

His senatours, with real ordynaunce, 
And other lordes, God wot, many oon, 
On Surriens to take high vengaunce. 
Tney brenne, sleen, and bringen hem to meschaunce 
Ful many a day ; but schortly this is thende, 
Horn-ward to Rome they schapen hem to weude. 

This senatour repayreth with victorie 
To Rome-ward, saylyng ful really, 
And mette the schjp dryvyng, as seth the story. 
In which Constance sitteth ful pitously. 5880 

"Nothing ne knew he what sche was, ne why 
Bche was in such aray, sche nolde seye 
Of hire astaat, although sche scholde deye. 

He bryngeth hir to Rome, and to his wyf 
He gaf hir, and hir yonge sone also ; 
And with the senatour lad sche hir lyf. 
Thus can our lady bryngen out of woo 
Woful Constance, and many another moo ; 
And longe tyme dwelled sche in that place, 
In holy werkes, as ever was hir grace. 5400 

The senatoures wif hir aunte was. 
But for al that sche knew hir never more : 
I wol no lenger taryen in this cas, 
But to kyng Alia, which I spak of yore, 
That for his wyf wepeth and siketh sore, 
I wol retorne, and lete I wol Constaunce 
Under the senatoures governaunce. 

Kyng Alia, which that had his mooder slayQ« 
Upon a day fel in such repentaunce. 



172 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 

That if I schortly telle schal and playn, 5410 

To Rome he cometh to receyve his penaunco, 

And putte him in the popes ordynaunce 

In heigh and lowe, and Jhesu Crist bysought, 

Forgef his wikked werkes that he wrought. 

The fame anon thurgh Rome toun is born. 
How Alia kyng schal come in pilgrymage, 
By herberjourz that wenten him biforn, 
For which the senatour, as was usage, 
Rood him agein, and many of his lynage, 
As wel to schewen his magnificence, 5420 

As to doon eny kyng a reverence. 

Gret cheere doth this noble senatour 
To kyng Alia, and he to him also ; 
Everich of hem doth other gret honour. 
And so bifel, that in a day or two 
This senatour is to kyng Alia go 
To fest, and schortly, if I schal not lye, 
Constances sone went in his companye. 

Som men wold seyn at request of Custaunce 
This senatour hath lad this child to feste ; 5430 

I may not telle every circumstaunce, 
Be as be may, ther was he atte leste ; 
But soth it is, right at his modres heste, 
Byforn hem alle, duryng the metes space, 
The child stood lokyng in the kynges face. 

This Alia kyng hath of this child gret wonder, 
And to the senatour he seyd anoon, 
** Whos is that faire child that stondeth yonder ? '* 
" I not," quod he, *' by Grod and by seynt Jon ! 
A moder he hath, but fader hath he non, 5440 

That I of woot : " and schortly in a stounde 
He told Alia how that this child was founde. 

" But God woot," quod this senatour also, 
" So vertuous a lyver in my lyf 
Ne saugh I never, such as sche, nomo 
Of worldly womman, mayden, or of wyf ; 
I dar wel say sche hadde lever a knyf 
Thurghout liir brest, than ben a womman wikke, 
Ther is no man can bryng hir to that prikke." 

Now was this child as lik unto Custaunce 5450 

As possible is a creature to be. 
This Alia hath the face in remembraunce 
Of dame Custance, and theron mused he, 
If that the childes mooder were ought sche 
That is his wyf ; and pryvelv he hight. 
And sped him fro the table that he might. 



TTIK MAN OF LA WES TALE. 173 

•' Parfay ' " thought he, " fantom is in myn heed ; 
I ought to deme, of rightful juggement, 
That in the salte see my wyf is deed." 
And after-ward he made this argument : 5460 

** What woot I, wher Crist hath hider sent 
My wyf by see, as wel as he hir sent 
To my contre, fro thennes that sche went ? " 

And after noon home with the senatour 
Goth Alia, for to see this wonder chaunce. 
This senatour doth Alia gret honour, 
And hastely he sent after Custaunce. 
But trusteth wel, hir luste nat to daunce, 
Whan that sche wiste wherfore was that sonde, 
Unnethes on hir feet sche mighte stonde. 5470 

Whan Alia saugh his wyf, fayre he hir grette, 
And wepte, that it was rewthe to se ; 
For at the firste look he on hir sette 
He knew wel verrely that it was sche. 
And for sorwe, as domb sche stant as tre*, 
So was hire herte schett in hir distresse, 
Whan sche remembred his unkyndenesse. 

Twies sche swowned in his owen sight ; 
He wept and him excuseth pitously ; 

"Now God," quod he, " and alle his halwes bright | 

So wisly on my soule have mercy, 5481 \ 

That of youre harm as gulteles am I j 

As is Maurice my sone, so lyk youre face, 
Elles the feend me fecche out of this place." 

Long was the sobbyng and the bitter peyne, 
Or that here woful herte mighte cesse ; 
Gret was the pite for to here hem pleyne, 
Thurgh whiche playntz gan here wo encresse. 
i pray you alle my labour to relesse, 
I may not telle al here woo unto morwe, 5490 

I am so wery for to speke of the sorwe. 

But fynally, whan that the soth is wist, 
That Alia gilteles was of hir woo, 
I trowe an hundred tymes they ben kist, 
And such a blys is ther bitwix hem tuo. 
That, save the joye that lasteth everemo, 
Ther is noon lyk, that eny creature 
Hath seyn or schal, whil that the world may dure. 

Tho prayde sche hir housbond meekely 
In the relees of hir pytous pyne, 5500 

That he wold preye hir fader specially, 
That of his majeste he wold enclyne 
To vouchesaul" aom tymo with him to dyne. 



174 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Sche preyetli him eek, he schalde by no weye 
Unto Mr fader no word of hir seye. 

Soni men wold seye, that hir child Maurice 
Doth his message unto the emperour ; 
But, as I gesse, Alia was nat so nyce, 
To him that is so soverayn of honour, 
As he that is of Cristes folk the flour, 6510 

Sent eny child ; but it is best to deeme 
He went himsilf, and so it may wel seme. 

This emperour hath graunted gentilly 
To come to dyner, as he him bysought ; 
And wel rede I, he loked besily 
Upon the child, and on his doughter thought. 
Alia goth to his in, and as him ought 
Arrayed for this fest in every wyse, 
As ferforth as his connyng may suffise. 

The morwe cam, and Alia gan him dresse, 5530 

And eek his wyf, the emperour for to meete ; 
And forth they ryde in joye and in gladnesse. 
And whan sche saugh hir fader in the streete, 
Sche light adoun and falleth him to feete. 
" Fader," quod sche, " your yonge child Constance 
Is now ful clene out of your remembraunce. 

*' I am your doughter Custaunce," quod sche, 
** That whilom ye have sent unto Surrye ; 
It am I, fader, that in the salte see 
Was put alloon, and dampned for to dye. 5530 

Now, goode fader, mercy I you crye, 
Send me no more unto noon hethenesse, 
But thanke my lord her of his kyndenesse." 

Who can thu pytous joye telle al 
Bitwix hem thre, sith they be thus i-mette ? 
But of my tale make an ende I schal ; 
The day goth fast, I wol no lenger lette. 
This glade folk to dyner they ben sette ; 
In joye and blys at 'mete I let hem dwelle, 
A thousand fold wel more than I can telle. 0540 

This child Maurice w as siththen emperour 
I-maad by the pope, and lyved cristenly, 
To Cristes chirche dede he gret honour. 
But I let al his story passen by, 
Of Custaunce is my tale specially ; 
In olde Romayn gestes men may fynd 
Maurices lyf, I here it nought in mynde. 

5606. som men wold seye. The version of the story here alluded to is that 
given iu Gower's Confesslo Amantis, book ii., which appears to have beeu 
published before Chaucer's Canterbury Tales were compiled. 



TEE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 175 

This kyng Alia, whan he his tyme say. 
With his Constaunce, his holy wyf so swete, 
To Eng:elond they com the righte way, 5550 

Wher as they ly ve in joye and in quyete. 
But litel whil it last, I you biheete, 
Joy of this world for tyme wol not abyde, 
Fro day to night it chaungeth as the tyde. 

Who lyved ever in such delyt a day, 
That him ne meved eyther his conscience, 
Or ire, or talent, or som maner affray, 
Envy, or pride, or passioun, or offence ? 
I ne say but for this ende this sentence 
That litel whil in joye or in plesaunce 5500 

Lasteth the blis of Alia with Custaunce. 

For deth, that takth of heigh and low his rent, 
Whan passed was a yeere, as I gesse. 
Out of this worlde kyng Alia he hent, 
For whom Custauns hath ful gret hevynesse 
Now let us pray that God his soule blesse ! 
And dame Custaunce, fynally to say, 
Toward the toun of Rome goth hir way. 

To Rome is come this nobil creature, 
And fynt hir freendes ther bothe hool and sound ; 
Now is sche skaped al hir aventure. 5571 

And whanne sche hir fader had i-founde, 
Doun on hir knees falleth sche to the grounde, 
Wepyng for tendirnes in herte blithe 
Sche heried God an hundred thousand sithe. 

In vertu and in holy almes-dede 
They lyven alle, and never asondre wende ; 
Til deth departe hem, this lyf they lede. 
And far now wel, my tale is at an ende. 
Now Jhesu Crist, that of his might may sende 5580 
» Joy after wo, governe us in his grace. 
And keep ous alle that ben in this place. 

THE PROLOGE OF THE WYF OF BATHE. 

"ExpERiENS, though noon auctorite 
Were in this world, it were ynough for me 
To speke of wo that is in mariage ; 
For, lordyngs, syns I twelf yer was of age, 

Prologe of the Wyf of Bathe. The Wife of Bath's prologue may be consid- 
ered as a ssparate tale, and belongs to a class of which there are several ex- 
amples sumong the literature of the middle ages. One of the latest is The twa 
nary it wtm en and the wedo of William Dunbar. The popular literature of 
what is commonly looked upon as tiie age of chivalry shows us that the female 
oLuructer was then estimated at the lowest possible rate. 

The Harl. Ms. erioneouBly places at the boginiiing of this prologao ibe 



176 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

I thank it God that is eterne on lyve, 

Housbondes atte chirch dore I have had fy ve, 

For I so ofte might have wed did be, 

And alle were worthy men in here degre. 5590 

But rne was taught, nought longe tyme «:oon is, 

That synnes Crist went never but onys 

To weddyng, in the Cane of Gahle, 

That by the same ensampul taught he me 

That I ne weddid schulde be but ones. 

Lo, herken such a scharp word for the nones ! 

Biside a welie Jhesus, God and man, 

Spak in reproef of the Samaritan : 

* Thow hast y-had fyve housbondes,' quod he ; 

* And that ilk man, which that now hath the, 5600 
Is nought thin housbond ; ' thus he sayd certayn ; 
What that he ment therby, I can not sayn. 

But that I axe, why the fyfte man 

Was nought housbond to the Samaritan ? 

How many might sche have in mariage ? 

Yit herd I never tellen in myn age 

Uppon this noumbre diffinicioun ; 

Men may divine and glosen up and doun. 

But wel I wot, withouten eny lye, 

God bad us for to wax and multiphe ; 5610 

That gentil tixt can I wel understonde. 

Ek wel I wot, he sayd, myn housebonde 

Schuld lete fader and moder, and folwe me ; 

But of no noumber mencioun made he, 

prologue of the Shipman's Tale. Some of the MSS. collated by Tyrv.hitt, in 
which the Merchant's Tale follows the Man of Law, have the following intro- 
ductory lines : 

Oure oost gan tho to loke up anon. 

" Gode men," quod he, " herkeneth everichone, 

As evere mote I drynke wyn or ale, 

ITiis marchant hath i-told a niery tale, 

Howe Januarie hadde a lither jape, ' 

His wyf put in his hood an ape. 

But hereof I wil leve off as now. 

Dame wyf of Bathe," quod he, " I pray you, 

Telle us a tale now nexte after this." 

" Sir oost," quod she, " so God my soule blis ! 

As I fully thereto wil consente ; 

And also it is myn hole entente 

To done yow alle disporte as that I can. 

But holde me excused ; I am a woman, 

I can not reherae as these clerkes kunne." 

And right anon she hath hir tale bygunne. 

Cq the Ms. Lansdowne there are four introductory lines : 

Than schortly ansewarde the wife of Bathe, 
And swore a wonder grete hathe. 
" Be Goddes bones, 1 wil tel next, 
I wille nouht glose, but saye the text. 
£xperimeut, though none auctorit6," etc. 




The wif of bathes ialiSc 



THE PROLOGE OF TEE WYF OF BATHE. 177 



Of bygainye or of octogamye ; 

Why schuld men speken of that vilonye ? 

Lo hier the wise kyng dann Salamon, 

I trow he hadde wifes ino than oon, 

As wold God it were lefnl unto Tie 

To he refreisshed half so oft as he ! 5620 

Which gift of God had lie for alle his wyvys ? 

No man hath such, that in the world on lyve is. 

God wot, this nohil king, as to my wit. 

The firste night had iiiany a mery fit 

With ecli of hem, so \\^\ v.as him on lyve. 

I-blessid be God that I have weddid fyve i 

Welcome the sixte whan that ever he schal. 

For sothe I nyl not kepe me chast in al ; 

Whan myn housbond is fro the world i-gon, 

Som cristne man schal wedde me anoon, 5630 

For than thapostil saith that I am fre 

To wedde, a goddis haf, wher so it be. 

He saith, that to be weddid is no synne ; 

Bet is to be weddid than to brynne. 

What recchith me what folk sayn vilonye 

Of schrewith Lameth, and of his bigamye ? 

I wol wel Abram was an holy man, 

And Jacob eek, as ferforth as I can, 

And ecli of hem had wyves mo than tuo, 

And many another holy man also. 5640 

Whan sawe ye in eny maner age 

That highe God defendid mariage 

By exjDres word ? I pray yow tellith me ; 

Or wher commaunded he virginite V 

I wot as wel as ye, it is no drede, 

Thapostil, whan he spekth of maydenhede, 

He sayd, that precept therof had he noon ; 

Men may counseil a womman to be oon, 

But counselyng nys no comaundement \ 

He put it in our owne juggement. 5650 

For hadde Cod comaundid maydenhede. 

Than had he dampnyd weddyng with the dede \ 

And certes, if ther v/ere wj seed i-sowe,, 

5626. The second Cambridge Mb. and some mss. quoted ty TyrwbiU add 
•f ter tliJB verse : 

Of whiche I have pyked out the teste 
Botheof here uethur pars and of here cheste 
Diverse soole^ maiieii parfyt clei kes. 
And diverse practyk in many eoudry werkes 
Maken the werkuKin paifyt sekirly ; 
Of five husboiided scoleryug am I, 
Welcome Mm sixQie, etc. 



178 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Virginite wheron schuld it growe ? 

Poul ne dorst not comaunde atte lest 

A tiling, of which his maister gaf non hes 

The dart is set upon virginite, 

Cach who so may, who rennith best let se. 

But this word is not taken of every wight, 

But ther as Grod list give it of his might. 5660 

1 wot wel that thapostil was a mayde, 

But natheles, though that he wrot or sayde, 

He wolde that every wight were such as he, 

Al nys but counseil unto virginite. 

And for to ben a wyf he gaf me leve, 

Of indulgence, so nys it to repreve 

To wedde me, if that my make deye, 

Withoute excepcioun of bigamye ; 

Al were it good no womman for to touche, 

(He mente in his bed or in his couehe) 5670 

For peril is bothe fuyr and tow to assemble ; 

Ye knowe what this ensample wold resemble. 

This is al and som, he holdith virginite 

More parfit than weddyng in frelte 

(Frelte clepe I, but if that he and sche 

Wold leden al ther life in chastite). 

I graunt it wel, I have noon envye. 

Though maidenhede preferre bygamye ; 

It liketh hem to be clene in body and gost ; 

Of myn estate I nyl make no bost. 6680 

For wel ye wot, a lord in his houshold 

He nath not every vessel f ul of gold ; 

Som ben of tre, and don her lord servise. 

God clepeth folk to him in sondry wise, 

And every hath of God a propre gifte, 

Som this, som that, as him likith to schifte. 

Virginite is gret perfeccioun, 

And continens eek with gret devocioun ; 

But Christ, that of perfeccioun is welle, 

Bad nought every wight schuld go and sella 5690 

Al that he had, and give it to the pore, 

And in such wise folwe him and his fore. 

He spak to hem that wolde lyve parfytly, 

And, lordyngs, by your leve, that am not I 

i wol bystowe the flour of myn age 

In the actes and in the fruytes of mariage. 

Tel me also, to what conclusioun 

Were membres maad of generacioun, 

6681. a lord in his household. See 2 Tim. ii. 20, 



THE PROLOGE OF THE WYF OF BATHE, 179 

And of so parfit wise a wight y-wrought ? 

Trustith right wel, thay were nought niaad for nought. 

Glose who so wol, and say bothe up and doun, 5701 

That thay were made for purgacioun, 

Oure bothe uryn, and thinges smale, 

Were eek to knowe a femel fro a male ; 

And for non other cause ? say ye no ? 

Thexperiens wot wel it is not so. 

So that these clerke ben not with me wrothe, 

I say this, that tliay makid ben for bothe, 

This is to say, for ofiQce and for ease 

Of engendrure, ther we God nought displease. .5710 

Why schuld men elles in her bokes sette, 

That man schal yelde to his wif his dette ? 

Now wherwith schuld he make his payement, 

If he ne used his sely instrument ? 

Than were thay maad up a creature 

To purge uryn, and eek for engendrure. 

But I say not that every wight is holde, 

That hath such barneys as I to yow tolde, 

To gon and usen hem in engendrure ; 

Than schuld men take of chastite no cure. 5720 

Crist was a mayde, and schapen as a man, 

And many a seynt, sin that the world bygan, 

Yet lyved thay ever in parfyt chastite. 

I nyl envye no virginite. 

Let hem be bred of pared whete seed, 

And let us wyves eten barly breed. 

And yet with barly bred, men telle can, 

Oure Lord Jhesu refreisschid many a man. 

In such astaat as God hath cleped ous 

I wil persever, I am not precious ; 5730 

In wyfhode I wil use myn instrument 

Als frely as my maker hath me it sent. 

If I be daungerous, God give me sorwe, 

Myn Lousbond schal han it at eve and morwe, 

Whan that him list com forth and pay his dette. 

An housbond wol I have, I wol not lette, 

Wliich schal be bothe my dettour and my thral, 

And have his tribulacioun withal 

Upon his fleissch, whil that I am his wyf. 

I have the power duryng al my lif 5740 

Upon his propre body, and not he , 

Right thus thapostil told it unto me, 

And bad oure housbondes for to love us wel ; 

Al this sentence me likitli every del." 

5699. And of so parfit wise. The Ms. Harl. reads. And in what wise. Some 
BIBS, read and why, iii;:itead of a wight. 



180 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Up start the pardoner, and that anoon ; 
** Now, dame,'* quod he, ** by God and by seint Jon, 
Ye ben a noble prechour in this caas. 
I was aboute to wedde a wif, allaas 1 
What ? schal I buy it on my fleisch so deere ? 
Yit had I lever wedde no wyf to yere ! " 5750 

*' Abyd," quod sche, " my tale is not bygonne. 
Nay, thou schalt drinke of another tonne 
Er that I go, schal savere wors than ale. 
And whan that I have told the forth my tale 
Of tribulacioun in mariage, 
Of which I am expert in all myn age, 
This is to say, myself hath ben the whippe ; 
Than might thou chese whethir thou wilt sippe 
Of thilke tonne, that I schal abroche. 
Be war of it, er thou to neigh approche. 5760 

For I schal telle ensamples mo than ten : 
Who so that nyl be war by other men 
By him schal other men corrected be. 
The same wordes writes Ptholome, 
Rede in his Almagest, and tak it there." 
" Dame, I wold pray you, if that youre wille were," 
Sayde this pardoner, " as ye bigan, 
Tel forth youre tale, and sparith for no man, 
Teche us yongemen of youre practike." 
** Gladly," quod sche, " syns it may yow like. 5770 

But that I pray to al this companye. 
If that I speke after my fantasie, 
As taketh nought agreef of that I say, 
For myn entente is nought but to play. 

*' Now, sires, now wol I telle forth my tale. 
As ever mote I drinke ^vyn or ale, 
I schal say soth of housbondes that I hadde, 
As thre of hem were goode, and tuo were badde. 
Tuo of hem were goode, riche, and olde ; 
Unnethes mighte thay the statute holde, 5780 

In which that thay were bounden unto me ; 
Ye wot wel what I mene of this parde ! 
As help me God, I laugh whan that I thinke, 
How pitously on night I made hem swynke. 
But, by my fay I I told of it no stoor ; 
Thay had me give her lond and her tresor, 

C764. Ptholomi. The wife of Bath's quotatjous from Ptolemy, here, and 

at 1. 5906, are not, it appears, to be found in the Almagest. She seems to 
quote Ptolemy when she cannot father an opinion upon anybody else. 

5779. I'uo of hem. The more common reading of the MSS, i3, The t^'fe were, 
V^hjcii ift adopted by Tyrwhitt. 



THE PROLOGE OF TUE WYF OF BATHE. 181 

Me nedith not no lenger doon diligence 

To wynue her love or doon hem reverence. 

Thay loved me so wel, by God above ! 

That I tolde no deynte of her love. 5790 

A wys womman wol bysi hir ever in oou 

To geie hir love, there sche hath noon. 

But synnes I had hem holly in myn hond, 

And synnes thay had me geven al her lond, 

What schuld I take keep hem for to please, 

But it were for my profyt, or myn ease ? 

I sette hem so on werke, by my fay ! 

That many a night thay songen weylaway. 

The bacoun was nought fet for hem, I trowe, 

That som men fecche in Essex at Donmowe. 5800 

I governed hem so wel after my lawe, 

That ech of hem ful blisful was and fawe 

To bringe me gaye thinges fro the faire. 

Thay were ful glad whan I spak to hem faire ; 

For, God it woot, I chidde hem spitously. 

Now herkeneth how I bar me proprely. 

Ye wise wyves, that can understonde, 

Tiius scholde ye speke, and here hem wrong on honde ; 

For half so boldely can ther no man 

Swere and lye as a womman can. 5810 

(I say not by wyves that ben wise, 

But if it be whan thay ben mysavise.) 

I- wis a wif, if that sche can hir good, 

Schal beren him on hond the cow is wood, 

And take witnes on hir oughne mayde 

Of hire assent ; but herkenith how I sayde. 

See, olde caynard, is this thin array ? 

Why is my neghebores wif so gay? 

5799. the bacoun. The Dunmow bacon appears to have "been in great rep- 
utation in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The following iioti e of 
this curious custom is found among some poetry of the latter period, printed 
in the litliquia Antiq. ii. p. 29 : 

I can fynd no man now that \ville enquere 
The parfyte wais unto Dunmow ! 
For they repent hem within a yero, 
And many within a weke, and sunner, men trow ; 
That cawsith the wais to be rowgh and overgrow, 
That no man may fynd path or gap, 
The world is turnyd to another shap. 
5810. swere and lye. A parallel passage is quoted by Tyrwhitt fr 
Roman de la Rose : 

Car plus hardiment que nulz hoius 
Certainement jurent et mentent. 
5817. "In the following speech, it would be endless to produce all Chau- 
cer's imitations. The beginning is from the fragment of Theophrastua 
quoted by St. Jerome c. Jovin. 1. i., and by John of Salisbury, Polycrat. lib. 
Viii. c. xi. ; see also Rom. de la R. v. 89(57. et %\nw."— Tyrwhitt. 



182 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Sche is honoured over al ther sche goth ; 

I sitte at horn, I have no thrifty cloth. 5820 

What dostow at my neighebores hous ? 

Is sclie so fair ? what, artow amorous? 

What roune ye witli hir maydenes ? benedicite, 

Sir olde lecchour, let thi japes be. 

And if I have a gossib, or a frend 

Withouten gilt, thou chidest as a fend, 

If that I walk or play unto his hous. 

Thou comest horn as dronken as a mous, 

And prechist on thy bench, with evel preef, 

Thou saist to me, it is a gret meschief 588U 

To wedde a pover womman, for costage ; 

And if that sche be riche and of parage, 

Thanue saist thou, that it is a tormentrie 

To sulTre hir pride and hir malencolie. 

And if that sche be fair, thou verray knave, 

Thou saist that every holour wol hir have ; 

Sche may no while in chastite abyde, 

That is assay led thus on eche syde. 

Thou saist that som folk desire us for riches, 

Som for our schap, and som for our fairnes, 5840 

And some, for that sche can synge and daunce, 

And some for gentilesse or daliaunce, 

Som for hir handes and hir amies smale : 

Thus goth al to the devel by thi tale. 

Thou saist, men may nought kepe a castel wal, 

It may so be biseged over al. 

And if sche be foul, thanne thou saist, that scho 

Coveitith every man that sche may se ; 

For, as a spaynel, sche wol on him lepe. 

Til that sche fynde som man hire to cliepe. 5850 

Ne noon so gray a goos goth in the lake, 

As sayest thou, wol be withouten make. 

And saist, it is an hard thing for to wolde 

Thing, that no man wol liis willes holde. 

Thus seistow, lorel, whan thou gost to bedde, 

And that no wys man nedith for to wedde, 

Ne no man that entendith unto hevene. 

6828. dronken as a mous. This was a common phrase. In the satirlcft 
doem of Doctour Double-ale, we have the lines : 
Then seke another house, 
This is not worth a louse ; 
As dronken as a mouse. 

Among the letters relating to the suppression of monasteries (Camd. Soc. 
Fubl. p. 133), there is cue from a monk of Forshore, who says that his brother 
monks of that house, " Jrynk an bowU after o. Lacyon tell ten or xii. of the 
clock, and cum to mattejis as dtc^k as inys'" 



THE PRO LOG E OF THE WYF OF BATHE. 183 

With wilde thunder dynt and fuyry levene 

Mote thi wicked necke be to-broke ! 

Thou saist, that droppyng hous, and eek smoke, 5860 

And cliydyng wyves maken men to fl > 

Out of here oughne hous ■ a, heyiedicitp. 

What eyUth such an old man for to chyde ? 

Thou seist, we wyves woin oure vices hide, 

Til we ben weddid, and than we wil hem schewc, 

Wei may that be a proverbe of a schrewe. 

Thou saist, that assen, oxen, and houndes, 

Thay ben assayed at divers stoundes, 

Basyns, lavours eek, er men hem bye, 

Spones, stooles, and al such housbondrie, 5870 

Also pottes, clothes, and array, 

But folk of wyves maken non assay, 

Til thay ben weddid, olde dotard schrewe ! 

And thanne, saistow, we woln oure vices schewe. 

Thf>u saist also, that it displesith me 

But if that thou wilt praysen my beaute, 

And but thou pore alway in my face. 

And clepe me faire dame in every place ; 

And but thou make a fest on thilke day 

That I was born, and make me freisch and gay ; 5880 

And but thou do my norice honoure, 

And to my chamberer withinne my boure, 

And to lay fadres folk, and myn allies : 

Thus saistow, olde barel ful of lies ! 

And yit of oure apprentys Jankyn, 

For his crisp her, schynyng as gold so fyn, 

And for he squiereth me up and doun, 

Yet hastow caught a fals suspeccioun ; 

I nyl him nought, though thou were deed to morwe. 

But tel me wherfor hydestow with sorwe 5890 

The keyes of thy chist away fro me ? 

It is my good as wel as thin, parde. 

•' What ! wenest thou make an ydiot of cure dame ' 
Now by that lord that cleped is seint Jame, 
Thow schait not botbe, though thou were wood, 
Be maister of my body and of my good ; 
That oon thou schait forgo maugre thin yen ! 
What helpeth it on me tenqucren or espien ? 
I trowe thou woldest lokk • m- m thy chest. 
Thou scholdist say, wif, gu v.her the lest ; 5900 

Take youre disport ; 1 nyl liev no talis ; 
I know yow for a trews wif, dame Alls.' 
We loveth no iiian, that takith keep or charga 
Wher that we goon ; we love to be at laiL'"=». 



184 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Of alle men i-blessed most he be 
T.ie wise astrologe claun Ptholome, 
That saith this proverbe in his Almagest : 
Of alle men his wisedom is highest, 
That rekkith not who hath the world in honde. 
By this proverbe thou schalt understonde, 5910 

Have thO'U ynough, what thar the recch or caro 
How merily that other folkes fare ? 
For certes, olde dotard, with your leve, 
Ye schul have queynte right ynough at eve. 
He is to gret a nygard that w^ol werne 
A man to light a candel at his lanterne ; 
He schal have never the lasse light, parde. 
Have thou ynough, the thar not pleyne the. 
" Thou saist also, that if we make us gay 
With clothing and with precious array, 5920 

That it is peril of our chastite. 
And yit, with sorwe, thou most enforce the, 
And say these wordes in thapostles name : 
In abyt maad with chastite and schame 
Ye wommen schuld apparayl yow, quod he, 
And nought with tressed her, and gay perre, 
As perles, ne with golden clothis riche. 
After thy text, ne after thin rubriche, 
I wol nought wirche as moche as a gnat. 
Thow saist thus that I was lik a cat ; 5930 

For who so wolde senge the cattes skyn, 
Than wold the catte duellen in his in ; 
And if the cattes skyn be slyk and gay, 
Sche wol not duelle in house half a day, 
But forth sche wil, er eny day be da wet, 
To sche we hir skyn. and goon a cater wrawet. 
This is to say, if I be gay, sir schrewe, 
I wol renne aboute, my borel for to schewe. 
Sir olde fool, what helpith the to aspien ? 
Though thou praydest Argus with his hundrid yen 
To be my wardecorps, as he can best, 5941 

In faith he schuld not kepe me but if he lest ; 
Yit couthe I make his herd, though queynte ho be 
Thou saydest eek, that tlier ben thinges thre. 
The whiche thinges troublen al this erthe, 
And that no wight may endure the ferthe. 
O leve sire schrewe, Jhesu scliorte thy lif ! 
Yit prechestow, and saist, an hateful wif 
I-rekened is for oon of tdiese meschaunces. 
Ben ther noon other of thy resemblaunces 5950 

5923. thapostles name. See 1 Tim. ii. 9. 



TEE PROLOGE OF THE WYF OF BATHE. 185 

Then ye may liken youie parables unto, 

But if a cely wyf be oon of tho ? 

Thow likenest womniannes love to helle, 

To bareyn lond, tlier water njay not duelle. 

Thou likenest it also to wilde fuyr ; 

The more it brenneth, the more it hath desir 

To consume every thing, that brent wol be. 

Thou saist, right as wormes schenden a tre, 

Right so a wif schendith hir housebonde ; 

This kuowen tho that ben to wyves bonde. 5960 

Lordynges, right thus, as ye han understonde. 

Bar i styf myn housebondes on honde, 

That thus thay sayde in her dronkenesse ; 

And al was fals. but that I took witnesse 

On Jankyn, and upon my neee also. 

Lord, the peyne I dede hem. and the wo, 
Ful gulteless, by Goddes sw^ete pyne ; 

For as an hors, I couthe bothe bite and whync; 

1 couthe j)leyne, and yet I was in the gilt, 

Or elles I hadde often tyme be spilt. 5970 

Who so first cometh to the my lie, first grynt ; 

I pleyned first, so was oure werre stynt. 

Thay were ful glad to excuse hem ful blyve 

Of thing, that thay never agilt in her lyve. 

And wenches wold I beren hem on honde, 

Whan that for seek thay might unnethes stonde, 

Yit tykeled I his herte for that he 

Wende I had of him so gret chierete. 

1 swor that al my vvalkyng out a nyght 

Was for to aspie wenches that he dight. 5 80 

Under that colour had I many a mirthe. 

For al such witte is geven us of birthe ; 

Deceipt, wepyng, spyiinyng, Grod hath give 

To wymmen kyndeiy, wiiil thay may lyve. 

And thus of o thing I avaunte me, 

At thende I had the bet in ech degre, 

By sleight or fors, or of som maner thing, 

As by continuel murmur, or chidyng, 

Namly on bedde, hadden thay meschaunce, 

Ther wold I chide, and do hem no plesaunce; 5990 



5971. to the mplle. This prove, b i.^ found also in French, in Luo fifteenth 
century : Qui prur.iior vi.-' ' ;iu luuiiiin premier doit niouklre. 

5983. deceipt. This appears to have been a popular saying : in the margia 
of the Jjansdowne Ms. it is given in a Latin leonine, thus : 

Fallero, flere, uere, dedit DeuB in muliere. 

t086r chidyng. Most tf tho mss. have, with Tyrwhitt, gmcchyng. 



186 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



I wold no lenger in the bed abyde, 

If that I felt his arm over my syde, 

Til he had maad his raunsoun unto me, 

Than wold I sufifre him doon his nycete. 

And therfor every man this tale telle, 

Wynne who so may, for al is for to selle ; 

With empty hond men may noon haukes lura 

For wynnyng wold I al his" lust endure, 

And make me a feyned appetyt, 

And yit in bacoun had I never delyt ; 6000 

That made me that ever I wold hem chyde. 

For though the pope had seten hem bisyde, 

I nold not spare hem at her oughne bord, 

For, by my trouthe> I quyt hem word for word. 

Als help me verray God omnipotent, 

Though I right now schuld make my testament, 

I owe hem nought a word, that it nys quitte, 

I brought it so aboute by my witte, 

That thay most geve it up, as for the best, 

Or ellis had we never ben in rest. (1010 

For though he loked as a grym lyoun, 

Yit schuld he fayle of his conclusioun. 

Than wold I saj'-, ' now, goode leef, tak Ijeep, 

How mekly lokith Wilkyn our scheep ! 

Com ner, my spouse, let me ba thy cheke. 

Ye schulde be al pacient and meke, 

And have a swete spiced consciens, 

Siththen ye preche so of Jobes paciens. 

Sufifreth alway, syns ye so wel can preche, 

And but ye do, certeyn we schul yow teche 6020 

That it is fair to have a wyf in pees. 

On of us tuo mot bowe douteles ; 

And, siththen man is more resonable 

Than womman is, ye moste be suffrable. 

What aylith yow thus for to grucche and grone ? 

It is for ye wold have my queynt allone ? 

Why, tak it al ; lo, have it every del. 

Peter ! 1 schrewe yow but ye love it wel. 

For if I woldo selle my hele chose, 

I couthe walk as freisch as eny rose, 6030 

But I wol kepe itf or youre owne toth. 

Ye ben to blame, by God, I say yow soth 1 ' 

Such maner wordes hadde we on honde. 

Now wol I speke of my fourth housbonde. 

6028. Peter! This is a very commt?n exclamation, from St. Peter; as Ma- 
rie 1 from the Virgin. St. Peter, as the reputed head of the papacy, stood 
tiigli among the saiuts in the Romish Chun 1 1. 



TBE PROLOGE OF THE WYF OF BATHE. 187 

My fourthe housbond was a revelour, 

This is to say, he had a paramour, 

And I was yong and ful of ragerie, 

Stiborn and strong, and joly as a pye. 

How couthe I daunce to an harpe smale, 

And synge y-wys as eny nightyngale, 6040 

Whan I had dronke a draught of swete wyn. 

Metillius, the foule cherl, the swyn. 

That with a staf byraft his wyf hir lyf 

For sche drank wyn, though I had ben his wif , 

Ne schuld nought have daunted me fro drink ; 

And after wyn on Venus most I think. 

For al so siker as cold engendrith hayl, 

A hkorous mouth most have a hcorous tail. 

In wymmen vinolent is no defens, 

This knowen lecchours by experiens. 0050 

But, lord Crist, whan that it remembrith me 

Upon my youthe, and on my jolite, 

It tikelith me about myn herte-roote. 

Unto this day it doth myn herte boote, 

That I have had my world as in my tyme. 

But age, alias I that al wol envenyme, 

Hath me bireft my beaute and my pith ; 

Let go, farwel, the devyl go therwith. 

The flour is goon, ther nis no more to telle, 

The bran, as I best can, now mot I selle. 6000 

But yit to be mery wol I fonde. 

Now wol I telle of my fourt housbonde. 

I say, I had in herte gret despyt, 

That he of eny other had delit ; 

But he was quit, by Grod and by seint Joce ; 

I made him of the same woode a croce, 

Nought of my body in no foul manere, 

But certeynly I made folk such chere, 

That in his owne grees I made him frie 

For anger, and for verray jalousie. 6070 

By God, in erthe I was his purgatory, 

For which I hope his soule be in glory. 

For, God it wot, he sat ful stille and song, 

Whan that his scho ful bitterly him wrong. 

Ther was no wight, sauf Grod and he, that wist 

6042. Metillius. Tliis anecdote is taken from Valerius Maximu3, lib. vi. 
c. 3, ex.9. The same stury is lold by Pliny, Hist. Aat. xiv. 16, but for K^cna- 
tius Metelius he substitutes the name of ^lecenius. 

60t)5. seiiit Joce. A French suint, known in Latin as St. Judocus. 

t;074. his scho. An allut-iou to the story of the Roman sago. \sl:.'. uueu 
blamed for divorcing his wife, said that a shoe might appear u.ak»a.Jy to 
fit well, but no one but the wearer knew where it pmcixed. 



188 THE CANTERBURY TALES, 

In many wyse how sore I him twist. 

He dyed whan I cam fro Jerusalem, 

And lith i-gravo under the roode-bem ; 

Al is his tombe nought so curious 

As was the sepulcre of him Darius, 6080 

Which that Appellus wrought so subtily. 

It nys but wast to burie him preciously. 

Let him farwel, God give his soule rest, 

He is now in his grave and in his chest. 

" Now of my fifte housbond wol I telle ; 
God let his soule never come in helle ! 
And yet was he to me the moste schrewe, 
That fele I on my ribbes alle on rewe, 
And ever schal, unto myn endyng day. 
But in oure bed he was so freisch and gay» 6090 

And therwithal so wel he couthe me glose^ 
Whan that he wold have my hele chose. 
That, though he had me bete on every boon, 
He couthe wynne my love right anoon. 
I trowe, I loved him beste, for that he 
Was of his love daungerous to me. 
We wymmen han, if that I schal nought lye, 
In this matier a queynte fantasie. 
Wayte, what thyng we may not lightly have, 
Therafter wol we sonnest crie and crave. 6100 

Forbeed us thing, and that desire we ; 
Pres on us fast, and thanne wol we fie. 
With daunger outen alle we oure ware ; 
Greet pres at market makith deer chaffare, 
And to greet ohep is holden at litel pris; 
This knowith every womman that is wj'-s. 
My fyfth housbond, God his soule blesse, 
Which that I took for love and no richesse, 
He som tyme was a clerk of Oxenford, 
And had left scole, and went at hoom to borde 6110 
With my gossib, duellyng in oure toun : 
God have hir soule, hir name was Alisoun. 
Sche knew myn herte and my privete 
Bet than oure parisch prest, so mot I the. 
To hir bywreyed I my counseil al ; 
For had myn housbond pissed on a wal. 
Or don a thing that schuld have cost his lif, 
To hir, and to another worthy wyf, 
And to my neece, which I loved wel, 
I wold have told his counseil every del. 6130 

And so I did ful ofte, God it woot. 
That made his face ofte reed and hoot 



THE PROLOGE OF THE WYE OE llATIIE. 180 

For verry scliame, and blaiiiyd himself, that lie 

Had told to me so gret a privete. 

And so byfel that oones in a Lent, 

(So ofte tyme to my gossib 1 went, 

For ever yit 1 loved to be gay, 

And for to walk in March, Averil, and May 

From hous to hous, to here sondry talis) 

That Jankyn clerk, and my gossib dame Alls, 3130 

And I myself, into the feldes went. 

Myn housbond was at Londone al that Lent ; 

I had the bettir leysir for to pleye, 

And for to see, and eek for to be seye 

Of lusty folk ; what wist I wher my grace 

Was schapen for to be, or in what place? 

Therfore I made my visitaciouns 

To vigiles, and to processiouns, 

To prechings eek, and to this pilgrimages, 

To pleyes of miracles, and mariages, C140 

And wered upon my gay scarlet gytes. 

These wormes, these moughtes, ne these mytes, 

Upon my perel fretith hem never a deel. 

And wostow why ? for thay were used wel. 

Now wol I telle forth what happid me : — 

I say, that in the feldes walkid we, 

Til trewely we had such daliaunce 

This clerk and I, that of my j^urvyaunce 

I spak to him, and sayde how that he. 

If I were wydow, schulde wedde me. 6150 

For certeynly, I say for no bobaunce, 

Yit was I never withouten purveyaunce 

Of mariage, ne of no thinges eeke ; 

I hold a mouses hert not worth a leek, 

That hath but oon hole to sterte to, 

And if that faile, than is al i-do. 

6137. vibitaciouns. This passage appears to be an imitation of one cited 
by Tyrwhitt Irom the lioman de la Rose : 

Souvent volbe k la mere eglise, 
Et face visitations 
Aux nopces, aux processions, 
Aux jeux, aux festes, aux caroles. 

6140. pleyes of miracles. The miracle-plays were favorite occaHions for 
people to assemble in great numbers. In a tale among my Latin Starie.'<, p. 
100, we are told that some pilgrims saw, in a very large mtjadow, " maximam 
multitudinem honnnum congregatam, (juos nunc silentes, mine aoclaniante8> 
ni.nc cachinnajites audicbant. Admirantes igitur quuro in loco tali tanta 
esset hominum adujiatio, a'slimabajit ibi tii.octacula celebrare quaj i\os mira- 
cula appellare cousuevimus." Thisisagcxl description of the assemblage 
at a miracle-play. 

61W, a mouses lurt. Thia was a very common proverb. It is found in 



190 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



[I bare him on hond he had enchanted me ; 

(My dame taughte me that subtiltee) 

And eke I sayd, 1 met of him all night, 

He wold han slain me, as I lay upright, 6160 

And all my bed was ful of veray blood ; 

But yet I hope that ye shuln do me good ; 

For blood betokeneth gold, as me was taught ; 

And al was false, I dremed of him right naught, 

But as I folwed ay my dames lore, 

As wel of that as of other thinges more.] 

But now, sir, let me se, what I schal sayn ; 

A ha ! by God, I have my tale agayn. 

" Whan that my fourthe housbond was on here, 
I wept algate and made a sory cheere, 6170 

As wyves mooten, for it is usage ; 
And with my kerchief covered my visage j 
But, for that I was purveyed of a make, 
I wept but smal, and that I undertake. 
To chirche was myn housbond brought on morwe 
With neighebors that for him made sorwe, 
And Jankyn oure clerk was oon of tho. 
As help me God, whan that I saugh him go 
After the beere, me thought he had a paire 
Of legges and of feet so clene and faire, G180 

That al myn hert I gaf unto his hold. 
He was, I trowe, twenty wynter old. 
And I was fourty, if I schal say the sothe, 
But yit I had alway a coltis tothe. 
Gattothid I was, and that bycom me wel, 
I had the prynte of seynt Venus sel. 
[As helpe me God, I was a lusty oon, 
And faire, and riche, and yonge, and wel begon ; 
And trewely, as myn housbonds tolde me, 
I had the best queynt that might be. olJJ 

French : tlie following example is taken from a MS. of tlie thirteenth ccn 
tury ; 

Doleute le eouris, 

Qui ne set qu'un seul pertuia 

It also occurs in German : 

Dass ist wol eine arme Maus, 

Die nur weiss zu einem Loch' hinaus. 

The same proverb is said of a fox in German. There was an ancient Latin 
proverb to the same effect. 

6157. This and the nine following lines are omitted in the Harl. :\Is aii.l 
others. The second Cambridge Ms. has them. They are here pdiite I I'lom 
Tyrwhitt. 

6187. The Harl. Ms. omits 11. 6187-6194 and 6201-6208. The second Cam- 
bridge Ms. is the only one I have collated which contains them all. The 
Lansd. and tirst Cambridge Mss. have only 11. 6187-6190. 1 have taken them 
from Tyrwhitt, collated with the mss. 



THE PROLOGE OF THE WYF OF BATHE. 191 



For certes I am all venerian 

In felyng, and my herte is marcian : 

Venus me gave my lust and likerousnesse, 

And Mars gave me my sturdy hardinesse.] 

Myn ascent was Taur, and Mars therinne ; 

Alias, alas, that ever love was synne ! 

I folwed ay myn inclinacioun 

By vertu of my constillacioun : 

That made me that I couthe nought withdrawe 

My chambre of Venus from a good felawe. 6200 

[Yet have I Martes marke uppon my face, 

And also in another prive place. 

For God so wisly be my salvacioun, 

I loved never by no discretioun, 

But ever folwed myn owne appetit, 

All were he shorte, longe, blake, or whit ; 

I toke ne kepe, so that he liked me, 

How povre he was, ne eek of what degre.] 

What schuld I say ? but at the monthis ende 

This joly clerk Jankyn, that was so heende, 6210 

Hath weddid me with gret solempnitee, 

And to him gaf I al the lond and fee 

That ever was me give therbifore. 

But aftir-ward repented me ful sore. 

He nolde suffre nothing of my list. 

By God, he smot me oones with his fist, 

For I rent oones out of his book a lef, 

That of that strok myn eere wax al deef. 

Styborn I was, as is a leones. 

And of my tonge a verray jangleres, 6220 

And walk I wold, as I had don biforn, 

Fro hous to hous.. although he had it sworn ; 

For which he ofte tymes wolde preche, 

And me of olde Roniayn gestes teche. 

How he Simplicius Gallus left his wyf. 

And hir forsok for terme of al his lyf, 

Nought but for open heedid he hir say 

Lokyng out at his dore upon a day. 

Another Rom ay n told he me by name, 

That, for his wyf was at a somer game 6230 

Without his wityng, he forsok hir eeke. 

And thanne wold he upon his book seeke 

That ilke proverbe of Ecclesiaste, 

6225. Simplicius Gallus. This story is taken from Val. Max. vl. 3. 

6229. Another Romayn. Seniproiiiua Sophus, of whom this story is told 
by Val. Max. loc. cit. Valerius Maximus was a '"avorite among the scholare 
of the middle agi s. 



192 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Wher he comaunditli, and forbedith faste, 
Ma.n schal not suffre his wyf go rouie aboute. 
Than wold he say right thus withouten doute: 

Who that buyldeth his hons al of salwes, 
And prilieth his blynde hors over the falwes, 
And suffrith his wyf to go seken halwes, 
Is worthy to be honged on the galwes. 

But ai for nought ; I settfc nought an hawe 6240 

Of his proverbe, ne of his olde sawe ; 

Ne I wold not of him corretted be. 

I hate him that my vices tellith me, 

And so doon mo, Grod it wot, than I. 

This made him with me wood al outerly ; 

I nolde not forbere him in no cas. 

Now wol I say yow soth, by seint Thomas, 

Why that I rent out of the book a leef. 

For which he smot me, that I was al deef. 6250 

He had a book, that gladly night and day 

For his desport he wolde rede alway ; 

He clep5^d it Valerye and Theofrast, 

At which book he lough alway ful fast. 

And eek ther was som tyme a clerk at Rome, 

A cardynal, that heet seint Jerome, 

That made a book agens Jov>'nyan. 

In which book eek ther was Tertulyan, 

Crisippus, Tortula, and eek Helewys, 

That was abbas not fer fro Paris ; 6260 

And eek the parablis of Salamon, 

Ovydes Art, and bourdes many oon ; 

And alle these were bounde in oo volume. 

And every night and day was his custume, 

Whan he had leysir and vacacioun 

From other worldes occupacioun. 

To reden in this book of wikked wyves. 

He knew of hem mo legendes and lyves, 

Than ben of goode wyves in the Bible. 

For trustith wel, it is an inpossible, 6270 

That any clerk schal speke good of wyves, 

But if it be of holy seintes lyves, 

6253. The tract of WaHer Mapes against marriage, published under the 
title of Epistola Valerii ad Rulinum, is common in manuscripts. Jerome, in 
his book contra Jovinianum, a bitter diatribe against matrimony, quotes a 
long extract from liber aureolus Theophrasti de nuptiis. "As to the rest of 
the contents of the 'clerkes' volume, Hieronymus contra Jovinianum, and 
Tertullian de Pallio, are sulliciently known ; and so are the Letters of Eioisa | 

and Abelard, the Parables of Solomon, and Ovid's Art of Love. I know of no | 

Trotula but one, whose book Curandarum (tyritudinum muliebrium ante, in, 
etpnst partum, is printed int. Medicos antiquos, Ven. 1647. Who is meant by 
CnsippuB 1 cannot guess."— Tj/j-ii'/tiW. 



THE PROLOG E OE THE WYE OF BATHE. 193 



Ne of noon other wyfes never the mo. 
Who peyntid the leoun, tel me, who? 
By God, if wommen hadde writen stories, 
As clerkes have withinne her oratories, 
Thay wold have write of men more wickidnes, 
Than al the mark of Adam may redres. 
These children of Mercury and of Venus 
Ben in her werkyng ful contrarious. 6280 

Mercury lovith wisdom and science. 
And Venus loveth ryot and dispense. 
And for her divers disposicioun, 
Ech fallith in otheres exaltacioun. 
And thus, God wot, Mercury is desolate 
In Pisces, wher Venus is exaltate, 
And Venus faylith wher Mercury is reysed. 
Therfor no womman of clerkes is preised. 
The clerk whan he is old, and may nought do 
Of Venus werkis, is not worth a scho ; 6290 

Than sit he doun, and writ in his dotage, 
That wommen can nought kepe here mariage. 
But now to purpos, why I tolde the, 
That I was beten for a leef, parde. 
Upon a night Jankyn, that was oure sire, 
Rad on his book, as he sat by the fyre, 
Of Eva fii-st, that for hir wikkidnes 
Was al mankynde brought to wrecchednes, 
[For which that Jhesu Crist himself was slayn, 
That bought us with his herte-blood agayn. 6300 

Lo here expresse of wommen may ye fynde, 
That woman was the losse of al mankynde.] 

6279. of Mercury and of Venus. An old astrological treatise of the six- 
teenth century informs us that " Venus . . . signifiethe white men or browno 
, . . joyfull, laughter, liberall, pleasers, dauncers, entertayners of women, 
players, perfumers, musitions, messengers of love." Mercury, according to 
the same authority, "siguitieth . . . subtill men, ingenious, unconstant, 
rymers, poets, ax^ivocates, orators, phylosophers, soothsayers, arithmeticians, 
and bu^ie fellowes." 

62»4. exaltacioun. Tyrwhitt gives the following explanation of this term. 
"In the old astrology, a planet was said to be in its exaltaiinn, when it was 
in that sign of the zodiac in which it was supposed to exert its strongest in- 
fluence. The opposite sign was called its dejection, as In that it was supposed 
to be weakest. To take the instance in the text, the exaltation of Venus was 
in Pisces (see also ver. 10587), and her dejection of course in Virgo. But iu 
Virgo was the exaltation of Mercury. 

She is the welthe and the rysynge, 
The lust, the joy, and the lykyuge, 
Unto Mercury. 

Gower, Conf. Am. 1. vii. fol. 147. So in ver. 10098, Cancer is called Joves ex- 
altacioun .'^ 

6299. This and the three following lines are omitted in most of the Mss. I 
liavo consulted. 

IB 



194 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Tho rad he me how Sarapson left his heris 

Slepyng, his leniman kut hem with hir scheris, 

Thurgh which tiesoun lost he bothe his yen. 

Tho rad he me, if that I schal not iyen, 

Of Ercules, and of his Dejanyre, 

That caused him to sette himself on f uyre. 

No thing forgat he the care and wo 

Tliat Socrates had with his w>n''es tno ; 6.^10 

How Exantipa cast pisse upon his heed. 

This seely man sat stille, as he were deed, 

He wypedhis heed, no more durst he sayn, 

But, ' Er thunder stynte ther cometh rayn.* 

Of Phasipha, that was the queen of Creete, 

For schrewednes him thought the tale sweete. 

Fy ! spek no more, it is a grisly thing, 

Of her horribil lust and her likyng. 

Of Clydemystra for hir leccherie 

That falsly made hir housbond for to dye, 6320 

He rad it with ful good devocioun. 

He told me eek, for what occasioun 

Amphiores at Thebes left his llf ; 

Myn housbond had a legend of his wyf 

Exiphilem, that for an ouche of gold 

Hath prively unto the Grekes told 

Wher that hir housbond hyd him in a jjlace, 

For which he had at Thebes sory grace. 

Of Lyma told he me, and of Lucye ; 

Thay bothe made her housbondes for to dye, 6330 

That oon for love, that other was for hate. 

Lyma hir housbond on an even late 

Empoysond hath, for that sche was his fo ; 

Lucia licorous loved hir housbond so, 

For that he schuld alway upon hir think, 

Sche gaf him such a maner love-drink, 

That he was deed er it was by the morwe j 

And thus algates housbondes had sorwe. 

Than told he me, how oon Latumyus 

Gompleigned unto his felaw Arrius, 6340 



6303. Tho rad he. The foflowing examples are mostly taken from tho 

Epistola Valerii ad Rufinum, and from the Roman de la Roue. 

m\\. Exantipa. Xantippe. In the other proper names in the following 
lines I Lave retained the corrupt orthography of the age, as given in Uie ms. 
I'hasipha is, of course, Pasiphae ; Cltjdamystra, Clytemnestra ; AmpUiorts, 
Auiphiaraus ; Exiphiltm, Eriphyle, etc. 

6329. Lyma. In the Latin story (in the Epist. Valerad Rufin.) the name 
Is lAtna, which appears tirst to have been mistaken for Lima, and then writ- 
ten Lyma. So the scribes in 1. 6708, have read Dam,it for Daunt, and aftOP* 
wards written it Damyt, which is found in one o£ the Cambridge us&. 



THE PROLOGE OF THE WYF OF BATHE. 195 

That in his gardyn growed such a tre, 
On which he sayde how that his wyves thre 
Honged hemselfe for herte despitous. 
'O levt. brother,' quod this Arrious, 

* Gil me a plont of tiiilke blessid tre, 
And in my gardyn schal it plantid be.' 
Of latter date of wyves hath he red 

That some han slayn her housbondes in her bed, 

And let her lecchour dighten al the night, 

Whil that the corps lay in the flor upright ; (5350 

And some han dryven nayles in her brayn, 

Whiles thay sleepe, and thus thay han hem slayn ; 

Som have hem give poysoun in her drink ; 

He spak more harm than herte may bythynk. 

And therwithal he knew mo proverbes 

Than in this world ther growen gres or herbes. 

Better is, quod he, thyn habitacioun 

Be with a leoun, or a foul dragoun, 

Than with a womman usyng for to chyde. 

Better is, quod he, hihe in the roof abyde, 6360 

Than with an angry womman doun in a hous ; 

Thay ben so wicked and so contrarious, 

Thay haten that her housbondes loven ay. 

He sayd, a womman cast hir schame away, 

Whan sche cast of hir smok ; and forthermo, 

A fair womman, but sche be chast also, 

Is lik a gold ryng in a sowes nose. 

Who wolde wene, or M^ho wolde suppose 

The wo that in myn herte was and pyne ? 

And whan I saugh he nolde nev^er fyne 6370 

To reden on this cursed book al night, 

Al sodeinly thre leves have 1 plight 

Out of this booke that he had, and eeke 

I with my fist so took him on the cheeke, 

That in oure fuyr he fel bak-ward adoun. 

And he upstert, as doth a w^ood leoun, 

And with his fist he smot me on the hed, 

That in the floor I lay as 1 were deed. 

And whan he saugh so stille that I lay, 

He was agast, and wold have fled away. 03S0 

Til atte last out of my swown 1 biayde. 

* O, hastow slayn me, false thef ? ' 1 sayde, 

* And for my lond thus hastow mourdrid me ? 
Er I be deed, yit wol I kisse the.' 

6355. mo proverbes. SeeProv. xxi.9, 19, aiidxi. 22. TyrwhittobscrvoH that 
the observation in 1. 6.3i;i is found in Heroiotue, lib. i. y. 5 It i:., ti wisver, 
£QUudiu various medieval writers, from whom Cliiiucor uaxiit Liave Lakeu it. 



196 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And ner he cam, and knelith faire adoun, 

And sayde, * Deere suster Alisonn, 

As help me God, I schal the never smyte ; 

That I have doon it is thiself to wite , 

Forgive it me, and that I the biseke.' 

And yet eftsones I hyt him on the cheke, 6390 

And sayde, ' Thef, thus mekil I me wreke. 

Now wol I dye, I may no lender speke.' 

But atte last, with mochil care and wo, 

We fyl accordid by oureselven tuo ; 

He gaf me al the bridil in myn hand 

To have the governaunce of hous and land, 

And of his tonge, and of his hond also, 

And made him brenne his book anoon right tho. 

And whan I hadde geten unto me 

By maistry al the sovereynete, 6400 

And that he sayde, ' Myn owne trewe wif. 

Do as the list the term of al thy lif, 

Kepe thyn honour, and kep eek myn estat ; 

And after that day we never had debat. 

God help me so, I was to him as kynde 

As eny wyf fro Denmark unto Inde, 

And al so trewe was he unto me. 

I pray to God that sitte in mageste 

So blesse his soule, for his mercy deere. 

Now wol I say my tale, if ye wol heere." 6410 

The Frere lough whan he had herd al this : 
*' Now, dame," quod he, *' so have I joye and blis, 
This is a long preambel of a tale." 
And whan the Sompnour herd the Frere gale, 
" Lo 1 " quod this Sompnour, " for Goddes armes tuo, 
A frer wol entremet him evermo. 
Lo, goode men, a flie and eek a frere 
Woln falle in every dissche and matiere. 
What spekst thou of perambulacioun ? 
What ? ambil, or trot; or pees, or go sit doun ; 6421 
Thou lettest oure disport in this matere." 
** Ye, woltow so, sir sompnour 1 " quod the Frere. 
** Now, by my fay, I schal, er that I go, 
Telle of a sompnour such a tale or tuo, 
That alle the folk schuln laughen in this place." 
** Now, ellis, frere, I byschrew thy face." 
Quod this Sompnour, " And I byschrewe me, 
But if I telle tales tuo or thre 
Of freres, er I come to Sydingborne, 

6429. Sydingborne, Sittiugbourne, about half way between Rochestef 
Olid Canterbury. 



THE WYF OF BATHES TALE. 197 



That I schal ma3^e thin herte for to morne ; 64rO 

For w^l I wot thi paciens is goon." 

Oure hoste cride, " Pees, and that anoon ; " 

And sayde, " Let the womman telle hir tale. 

Ye fare as folkes that dronken ben of ale. 

Do, dame, tel forth your tale, and that is best." 

** Al redy, sir," quod sche, " rig:ht as you lest, 

If I have licence of this worthy frere." 

*' Yis, dame," quod he, " tel forth, and I schal heera, 

THE WYF OP BATHES TALE. 

In olde dayes of the kyng Arthour, 6440 

Of which that Britouns speken gret honour, 
Al was this lond fulfilled of fayrie ; 
The elf-queen, with hir joly conipaignye, 
Daunced ful oft in many a grene mede. 
This was the old oppynyoun, as I rede ; 
I speke of many hundrid yer ago ; 
But now can no man see noon elves mo. 
For now the grete charite and prayeres 
Of lymy tours and other holy freres. 
That sechen every lond and every streem, 
As thik as motis in the sonne-beem, 84:5J 

Biessynge halles, chambres, kichenes, and. boures, 
Citees and burghes, castels hihe and toures, 
Thropes and bernes, shepnes and dayeries. 
That makith that ther ben no fayeries. 
For ther as wont was to walken an elf, 
Ther walkith noon but the lymytour himself, 
In undermeles and in morwenynges. 
And saith his matyns and his holy thinges 
As he goth in his lymytacioun. 

Wommen may now go saufiy up and doun, (54C0 

In every bussch, and under every tre, 
Ther is non other incubus but he, 
And he ne wol doon hem no dishonour. 
And so bifel it, that this king Arthour 
Had in his hous a lusty bacheler, 



The \V jif of Bathes Tale. The source from wliicli Chanoor took this story 
i- sonievvliat uncertain, but it was very probably t'le subje«;t of a t< lencb lay 
Percy printed a ballad entitled The Marriage of Sir Gawaine, which is found- 
ed on the same plot. The story of Florent, in Gower, t'onf. Amant. book i., 
bears a close resemblance to it. 

6463. The Ms. Harl. reads this line, evj-V^Hv incorrectlv. And v-p inol bui 
ilrnv hftn dishonour, in the previous line, uiu ««uue lua-nuecripi r^ttcb tJrrO" 
! cuusiy mcuiiibtfiitf instead oi mcut/un. 



198 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



That on a day com rydyng fro ryver ; 

And happed, al alone as sche was born, 

He saugh a mayde walkyng him byforn, 

Of which mayden anoon, maugre hir heed, 

By verray fors byraft hir maydenhed. 6470 

For which oppressioun was such clamour, 

And such pursuyte unto kyng Arthour, 

That dampned was the knight and schuld be ded 

By cours of lawe, and schuld have lost his heed, 

(Paraventure such was the statut tho,) 

But that the queen and other ladys mo 

So longe preyeden thay the kyng of grace, 

Til he his lif hath graunted in the place, 

And gaf him to the queen, al at hir wille 

To chese wethir sche wold him save or spille. 6480 

The queen thanked the kyng with al hir might ; 

And after thus sche spak unto the knight, 

AVhan that sche saugh hir tyme upon a day : 

"*' Thow stondest yet," quod sche, " in such array, 

That of thy lyf hastow no sewerte ; 

I graunte thy lif, if thou canst telle me, 

What thing is it that wommen most desiren ; 

Be war, and keep thy nek-bon fro the iren. 

And if thou canst not tellen it anoon. 

Yet wol I give the leve for to goon 6490 

A twelfmonth and a day, it for to lere 

An answar suffisaunt in this matiere. 

And seurte wol I have, er that thou pace, 

Thy body for to yelden in this place." 

Wo was this knight, and sorwfully he siked ; 

But what ? he may not doon al as him liked. 

And atte last he ches him for to wende. 

And come agein right at the yeres ende 

With swich answer as God him wolde purveye ; 

And takith his leve, and wendith forth his weye. 6500 

He sekith every hous and every place, 

Wher so he hopith for to fynde grace. 

To lerne what thing wommen loven most ; 

But he ne couthe arryven in no cost, 

Wher as he mighte fynde in this matiere 

Two creatures accordyng in fere. 

6466. fro ryver. From hawking, Conf. 1, 13665. Tyrwhitt has given SGV 
cral exampies of the same phrase as used in French by Froibsart— •' Le Comt« 
de Flaudi'es estoit tousjours en riviere" (v. i. c. 140) .... King iildvv'ard 
**alloit chacun jour ou en chacr ou en riviere." (ib. c. 210.) 

6606. Two crealures. The Hari- Ma. reads. To these thinges accordyng in 

/Cfc 



THE WYF OF BATHES TALE. ^9^) 



Some sayden, wominen loven best richesse, 

Some sayde honour, and some sayde jolynesse, 

Some riche array, some sayden lust on bedde, 

And ofte tyme to be wydow and wedde. 0510 

Some sayden owre herte is most i-eased 

Whan we ben y-flaterid and y-preised ; 

He goth ful neigh the soth, I wil not lye ; 

A man schal wynne us best with flaterye ; 

And with attendaunce, and with busynesse 

Ben we y-limed both more and lesse. 

And some sayen, that we loven best 

For to be fre, and to doon as us lest, 

And that no man repreve us of oure vice, 

But say that we ben wys, and no thing nyce. 6520 

For trewely ther is noon of us alle, 

If eny wight wold claw us on the galle^ 

That we nyl like, for he saith us soth ; 

Assay, and he schal fynd it, that so doth. 

For be we never so vicious withinne. 

We schuln be holde wys and clene of synne. 

And some sayen, that gret delit han we 

For to be holden stabil and secre, 

And in oon purpos stedfastly to duelle, 

And nought bywreye thing that men us telle. 6530 

But that tale is not worth a rakes stele. 

Pardy, we wymmen can right no thing hele, 

Witnes on Mida ; wil ye here the tale ? 

Ovyd, among his other thinges smale, 

Sayde, Mida had under his lange heris 

Growyng upon his heed tuo asses eeris ; 

The whiche vice he hid, as he best might, 

Ful subtilly fro every mannes sight. 

That, save his wyf, ther wist of that nomo ; 

He loved hir most, and trusted hir also ; 6540 

He prayed hir, that to no creature 

Sche schulde tellen of his disfigure. 

Sche swor him, nay, for al this world to wynne, 

Sche nolde do that vilonye or synne 

To make hir housband have so foul a name; 

Sche wold not tel it for hir oughne scliame. 

But natheles hir thoughte that sche dyde, 

That sche so long a counseil scholde hyde ; 

Hir thought it swal so sore about hir hert, 

6512. y-preised. The Karl. Ms. reads y -pleased ; but the reading I have 
Rdcpted seems to give the best sense. 

6523. like. Tyrwhitt reads kike; but the mss. I have couaulted agree in 
like, or loke, the former being the reading of Mb. Harl. 



200 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

That needely som word hir most astert ; 6550 

And sins sche dorst not tel it unto man, 

Doun to a marreys faste by sche ran, 

Til sche cam ther, her herte was on fuyre ; 

And as a bytoure bumblith in the myre, 

Sche layd hir mouth unto the water doun. 

' Bywrey me not, thou watir, with thi soun,' 

Quod sche, * to the I telle it, and nomo, 

Myn housbond hath long asse eeris tuo. 

Now is myn hert al hool, now is it oute, 

I might no lenger kepe it out of doute.' G560 

Her may ye se, theigh we a tyme abyde, 

Yet out it moot, we can no counseil hyde. 

The remenaunt of the tale, if ye wil here, 

Redith Ovid, and ther ye mow.it leere. 

This knight, of which my tale is specially, 
Whan that he saugh he might nought come therby, 
This is to say, that wommen loven most, 
Withinne his brest fal sorwful was the gost. 
But hom he goth, he might not lenger sojourne, 
The day was come, that hom- ward most he torne. 
And in his way, it hapnyd him to ride 6571 

In al his care, under a forest side, 
Wher as he saugh upon a daunce go 
Of ladys four and twenty, and yit mo. 
Toward this ilke daunce he drough ful yerne, 
In hope that he &om wisdom schuld i-lerne ; 
But certeynly, er he com fully there, 
Vanysshid was this daunce, he nyste where ; 
No creature saugh he that bar lif , 

Sauf on the greene he saugh sittyng a wyf , 6580 

A fouler wight ther may no man devyse. 
Agens the knight this olde wyf gan ryse. 
And sayd, " Sir knight, heer forth lith no way ; 
Tel me what ye seekyn, by your fay. 
Paradventure it may the better be : 
Thise olde folk con mochil thing," quod sche. 
*'My lieve modir," quod this knight, " certayn 
I am but ded but if that I can sayn 
What thing is it that wommen most desire ; Gr>89 

Couthe ye me wisse, I wold wel quyt your huyre." 
*' Plight me thy trouth her in myn hond," quod sche, 
•' The nexte thing that I require the. 
Thou schalt it doo, if it be in thy might, 
And I wol telle it the, er it be night." 
*• Have her my trouthe," quod the knight, ** I graunte." 
** Thanne," quod sche, " I dar me wel avaunte, 



TEE WYF OF BATHES TALE. 201 



Thy lif is sauf , for I wol stonde therby. 

Upon my lif the queen wol say as I ; 

Let se, which is the proudest of hem alle, 

That weritli on a coverchief or a calle, C600 

That dar say nay of thing I schal the teche. 

Let us go forth withouten more speche." 

Tho rowned sche a pistil in his eere, 

And bad him to be glad, and have no fere. 

Whan thay ben comen to the court, this knight 

Sayd, he had holde his day, that he hight, 

Al redy was his answer, as he sayde. 

Pul many a noble wyf, and many a mayde, 

And many a wydow, for that thay ben wyse, 

The queen hirself sittyng as a justise, 6610 

Assemblid ben, his answer for to hiere ; 

And after- ward this knight was bode appiere, 

To every wight comaundid was silence, 

And that the knight schuld telle in audience 

What thing that worldly wommen loven best. 

This knight ne stood not stille, as doth a best, 
But to the questioun anoon answerde, 
With manly voys, that al the court it herde : 
*' My liege lady, generally," quod he, 
" Wommen desiren to have soveraynte 6620 

As wel over hir housbond as over hir love, 
And for to be in maystry him above. 
This is your most desir, though ye me kille ; 
Doth as yow list, I am heer at your wille." 
In al the court ne was ther wyf, ne mayde, 
Ne wydow, that contraried that he sayde ; 
But sayden, he was worthy have his lif. 
And with that word upstart that olde wif, 
Which that the knight saugh sittyng on the grene. 
"Mercy," quod sche, " my soveraign lady queene, 
Er that your court departe, doth me right. 6631 

I taughte this answer unto the knight ; 
For which he plighte me liis trouthe there, 
The firste thing that I wold him requere, 
He wold it do, if it lay in his might. 
Before this court then pray I the, sir knight,' 
Quod sche, " that thou me take unto thy wif, 
For wel thou wost, that I have kept thy lif ; 
If I say fals, sey nay, upon thy fey." 
This knight answerd, " Alias and waylawey 1 6641 

I wot right wel that such was my byhest. 
For Goddes love, as chese a new request ; 
Tak al my good, and let my body go." 



202 THE CANTERBURY TALE^S. 



" Nay," quod sche than, " I sclirew us bothe tuo. 

For though that I be foule, old, and pore, 

I nolde for al the metal ne for the ore 

That under erthe is grave, or lith above, 

But I thy wife were and eek thy love." 

*' My love ? " quod he, " nay, nay, my dampnacioun. 

Alias ! that eny of my nacioun 6650 

Schuld ever so foule disparagid be ! " 

But al for nought; the ende is this, that he 

Constreigned was, he needes most hir wedde, 

And takith his wyf, and goth with hir to bedde 

Now wolden som men say parad venture. 
That for my necgligence I do no cure 
To telle yow the joye and tharray 
That at that fest was maad that ilke day. 
To which thing schortly answeren I schal. 
And say tlier nas feste ne joy at al, 6660 

Ther nas but hevynes and mochil sorwe ; 
For prively he weddyd hir in a morwe, 
And alday hudde him as doth an oule, 
So wo was him, his wyf loked so foule. 
Gret was the wo the knight had in his thought 
Whan he was with his wyf on bedde brought, 
He walwith, and he torneth to and fro. 
His olde wyf lay smylyng ever mo. 
And sayd, " O deere housbond, benedicite, 
Fareth every knight with his wyf as ye ? 6670 

Is this the lawe of king Arthures hous ? 
Is every knight of his thus daungerous ? 
I am your oughne love, and eek your wyf, 
I am sche that hath savyd your lyf. 
And certes ne dede I yow never unright. 
Why fare ye thus with me the firste night ? 
Ye fare lik a man that had left his wit. 
What is my guit ? for Godes love, tel me it. 
And it schal be amendid, if that I may." 
" Amendid I " quod this knight, " alias ! nay, nay, 
It wol nought ben amendid, never mo ; 6G3J 

Thow art so lothly, and so old also. 
And therto comen of so lowh a kynde, 
That litil wonder is though 1 walwe and wynde ; 
So wolde God, myn herte wolde brest ! " 
" Is this," quod sche, " the cause of your unrest ? " 
*' Ye, certeynly," quod he, " no wonder is ! " 
•' Now, sire," quod sche, " I couthe amende all this, 
If that me list, er it were dayes thre, 
Bo wei ye uiii^hte here yow to me. ^'090 



THE WYF OF BATHES TALE. i^OS 



But for re speken of such prentilesse 

As is descendit out of old richesse, 

Therfor schald ye ben liolden gentil men ; 

Such arrogaunce is not worth an hen. 

Lok who that is most vertuous alway, 

Prive and pert, and most entendith ay 

To do the gentil dedes that he can, 

Tak him for the grettest gentil man. 

Crist, wol we clayme of him oure gentilesse, 

Nought of oure eldres for her olde richesse. 6700 

For though thay give us al her heritage, 

For which we clayme to be of high parage, 

Yit may thay not biquethe, for no thing 

To noon of us, so vertuous lyvyng. 

That made hem gentil men y-callid be, 

And bad us folwe him in such degre. 

Wei can the wyse poet of Florence, 

That hatte Daunt, speke of this sentence ; 

Lo, in such maner of r3'm is Dauntes tale : 

Ful seeld uprisith by his braunchis smale 6710 

Prowes of man, for God of his prowesse 

Wol that we claime of him our gentilesse ; 

For of our auncestres we no thing clayme 

But temporal thing, that men may hurt and mayme. 

Ek every wight wot this as wel as I, 

If gentiles were plaunted naturelly 

Unto a certayn lignage doun the line, 

Prive ne apert, thay wolde never fine 

To don of gentilesce the fair office, 

Thay might nought doon no vileny or vice. 6720 

Tak fuyr and ber it in the derkest hous 

Bitwixe this and the mount Caukasous, 

And let men shit the dores, and go thenne, 

Yit wol the fuyr as fair and lighte brenne 

As twenty thousand men might it biholde ; 

His office naturel ay wol it holde, 

Up peril on my lif, til that it dye. 

Her may ye se wel, how that genterye 

Is nought annexid to possessioun, 

Sithins folk ne doon her operacioun 6730 

6700. hvT olde. The Harl. Ms. reads, /or our gret richesse. 
6709. Dauntes tale. The words of Dante {Purg. vii. 121) are,— 

Rade volte risurge per li rami 

L' humana probitate : et questo vuole 

Quei che la da, perche da se si chiami. 

6T13. atLucestres. Other Mss., with Tyrwtiitt, read cnir elders mrv tt^ 
Wlucb is perhaps the better reading. 



204 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Alway, as doth the fuyr, lo, in his kynde. 

For God it wot, men may ful often fynde 

A lordes sone do schame and vilonye. 

And he that wol have pris of his gentrie, 

For he was boren of a gentil hous, 

And had his eldres noble and vertuous, 

And ny] himselve doo no gentil dedes, 

Ne folw his gentil aunceter, that deed is, 

He is nought gentil, be he duk or erl ; 

For vileyn synful deedes niaketh a cherl. 6740 

For gentilnesse nys but renome 

Of thin auncestres, for her heigh bounte, 

Which is a straunge thing to thy persone ; 

Thy gentilesce cometh fro God alloone. 

Than comth oure verray gentilesse of grace, 

It was no thing biquethe us with oure place. 

Thinketh how nobil, as saith Valerius, 

Was thilke Tullius Hostilius, 

That out of povert ros to high noblesse. 

Redith Senek, and redith eek Boece, 0750 

Ther schuln ye se expresse, that no dred is, 

That he is gentil that doth gentil dedis. 

And therfor, lieve housbond, I conclude, 

Al were it that myn auncetres wer rude, 

Yit may the highe God, and so hope I, 

Graunte me grace to lyve vertuously ; 

Than am I gentil, whan that I bygynne 

To lyve vertuously, and weyven synne. 

And ther as ye of povert me repreve, 

The heighe God, on whom that we bilieve, 676w 

In wilful povert ches to lede his lif ; 

And certes, every man, mayden, or wif, 

May undei-stonde that Jhesus, heven king, 

Ne wold not chese a vicious lyvyng. 

Glad povert is an honest thing certayn ; 

This wol Senek and other clerkes sayn. 

Who that holt him payd of his povert, 

I hold him riche, al had he nought a schert. 

He that coveitith is a pore wight, 

For he wold have that is not in his might. 6770 

But he that nought hath, ne covey teth nought to have, 

Is riche, although ye hold him but a knave, 

Verray povert is synne proprely. 

6741. For gentilnesxe. Tyrwliltt refers to Boothius de Consol. iii. Pr. 6, foi 
much of the reasoning here adopted by Chaucer. 

«761. lede. The Ms. Harl has Use, which appears to have been a mere 
error of the 8cril>e. 



THE WYF OF BATHES TALE, 205 



** Juvenal saith of povert merily, 
The pore man whan he goth by the way 
Bifore the theves he may synge and play. 
Povert is hateful good ; and, as I gesse, 
A f ul gret brynger out of busynesse j 
A gret aniender eek of sapiens 

To him that takith it in paciens. 6780 

Povert is this, although it seme elenge, 
Possessioun that no wight wil chalenge. 
Povert ful often, whan a man is lowe, 
Makith him his God and eek himself to knowe. 
Povert a spectacle is, as thinkith me, 
Thurgh which he may his verray frendes se; 
And therfor, sir, syth that I yow nought greve, 
Of my povert no more me repreve. 

** Now, sir, of elde ye repreve me ; 
And certes, sir, though noon auctorite 6790 

Were in no book, ye gentils of honour 
Sayn that men scliuld an old wight doon favour, 
And clepe him fader, for your gentilesse ; 
And auctours I schal fynden, as I gesse. 

' ' Now ther that ye sayn I am foul and old. 
Than drede yow nought to ben a cokewold. 
For filthe and elde, al so mot I the, 
Ben grete wardeyns upon chastite. 
But natheles, sith I knowe your delyt, 
I schal fulfille youre worldly appetyt. 6800 

Chese now," quod sche, ** oon of these thinges tweye, 
To have me foul and old til that I deye. 
And be to yow a trewe humble wyf, 
And never yow displease in al my lyf ; 
Or elles ye wol have me yong and fair, 
And take your aventure of the repair 
That schal be to your hous bycause of me. 
Or in soui other place it may wel be. 
Now chese yourselven whethir that yow liketh." 

T4, Juvenal saith. Sat. x. 1. 22,— 

Cantabit vacuus coram latrone viator. 

677^. Povert is hateful good. This is taken from a pretended dialogao be- 
tween the emperor Adrian and the philosopher Secndus, which is given in 
Vincent of Beauvais, Spec. Hist. lib. x. c. 71, and is not unfrequently found 
in a separate form in old manuscripts. To ihe question, "Quid est pauper- 
tas?" the philosopher replies, '^ Oditdle bonum; sanitatis mater; reniotio 
curarum ; sapientiie repertrix ; negotium sine damno ; possessio absque cdlutn- 
nia: .-^ine sollicitudine felicitas." 

67'JT. al so, or, as it is commonly written, also, is the Anglo-SaxoTi ealswa 
ox eal swa. Tyrwhitt, apparently not aware of this, has added another so, 
not foimd in any of the mss.. and reads the line, 

For aithe, and elde also, eo mot I the. 



206 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



This knijxlit arysith him, and sore sikith 6810 

But atte last he sayd in this manere : 

" My lady and my love, and wif so deere, 

I putte me in your wyse governaunce, 

Chesith yourself which may be most pleasaunse 

And most honour to yow and me also, 

I do no fors the whether of the tuo ; 

For as yow likith, it sufifisith me." 

" Than have I gete of yow the maystry," quod sche, 

" Sith I may govern and chese as me list ? " 

" Ye certis, wyf," quod he, "I hold it best." 6S20 

" Kys me," quod sche, " we ben no lenger wrothe, 

For, by my trouthe, I wol be to yow bothe, 

This is to say, ye, bothe fair and good. 

I pray to God that I mot sterve wood, 

But I be to yow al so good and trewe 

As ever was wyf, siththen the world was newe ; 

And but I be to morow as fair to seen 

As eny lady, emperesse, or queen, 

That is bitwixe thest and eek the west, 

Doth by my lyf right even as yow lest. 6830 

Cast up the cortyns, and look what this is." 

And whan the knyght saugh verrayly al this, 
That sche so fair was, and so yong therto, 
For joye he hent hir in his armes tuo ; 
His herte bathid in a bath of blisse, 
A thousand tyme on rowe he gan hir kisse. 
And sche obeyed him in every thing 
That mighte doon him pleisauns or likyng. 
And thus thay lyve unto her lyres ende 
In parfyt joye ; and Jhesu Crist us sende 6840 

Housbondes meke, yonge, and freissche on bedde. 
And grace to overbyde hem that we wedde. 
And eek I pray to Jhesus schort her lyves, 
That wil nought be governed after her wyvs 
And old and angry nygardes of despense, 
God send hem sone verray pestilence 1 

THE PROLOGE OF THE FREBE. 

This worthy lymytour, this noble Frere, 
He made alway a maner lourynge cheere 

8831. The second Cambridge ms. reads, instead of this line, 

And 80 they slept tille the morw*. gray; 
And than she saide, when it was day, 
•• Caste up the curteyn, loke howe it is." 



THE FRERES TALE. 20? 



Upon the Sompnour, but for boneste 

No vileyns worde yit to him spak be. 6850 

But atte last be sayd unto tbe wyf, 

"Dame," quod be, " God give yow good lyf I 

Ye ban ber toucbid, al so mot i tbe, 

In scole niatier gret difficulte. 

Ye ban sayd mocbel tbing rigbt wel, I say ; 

But, dame, rigbt as we rj^den by tbe way, 

Us needetb nougbt but for to speke of game, 

And lete auetorites, in Goddes name, 

To precbing and to scoles of clergie. 

But if it bke to this companye, 6860 

I wil vow of a sompnour telle a game ; 

Parde, ye may wel knowe by tbe name, 

Tbat of a sompnour may no good be sayd ; 

I pray tbat noon of yow be evel apayd ; 

A sompnour is a renner up and doun 

Witb maundementz for fornicacioun. 

And is y-bete at every tounes eende." 

Our oate spak, "A ! sir, ye scbold been beende 
And curteys, as a man of your estaat, 
In company we wol bave no debaat ; fi870 

Telletb your tale, and let tbe Sompnour be." 
*' Nay," quotb tbe Sompnour, " let bim say to me 
Wbat so bim list ; wban it cometb to my lot. 
By God ! I scbal bim quyten every grot. 
I scbal bim telle wliicb a gret bonour 
Is to ben a fals flateryng lymytour, 
And bis offis I scbal bim telle i-wis." 
Oure bost answerd, " Pees, no more of tbis." 
And after tbis be sayd unto tbe Frere, G879 

" Telletb fortb vour tale, my leve maister deere." 

THE FRERES TALE. 

Whilom tbere was dwellyng in my countre 
An ercbedeken, a man of gret degrc, 

6858. Auctorit(^s. " Auctoritas was tbe usual word for what we call h trxt 
of Scripture. Ms. Harl. lOG, 10. Expositio awc/o?'i^t/t.s',Majuri gautUum siipor 
lino peccatore. Ibid. 2i. Expositio aucioritatis, Stetit populus de Icujie-." 
&c.— Tyrwhitt. 

6880. I'ees, no more of this. The Harl. Ms. reads, and sayd the Sompnour 
this. 

0882. leve. Tliis word is omitted in the Ms. Harl., but seems necessary for 
the metre, and is adopted from tbe Lansdown Ms. I'yrwbitt bus owcii mnis- 
ter. 

The Freres Tale. It is probable tbat Cliaucer took tbis admirable siory 
from an old fabliau, now lost, or at least unknown. It has, however, been 
preserved in an abridged form in a tale primed in my SeUctum of Latin Sto- 
ries, p. 70, under tbe title of J>f, Aduocato et DiaOoto, from ilie I'romptuarium 
Exemplorum, a work coLipiled In the earlier part of the hfteeuth century. 



208 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



That boldely did execucioun 

In punyschyng of fornicacioun, 

Of wicchecraft, and eek of bauderye 

Of diffamacioun, and avoutrie, 

Of chirche-reves, and of testamentes, 

Of contractea, and of lak of sacraments, 

And eek of many another maner cry me, 

Which needith not to reherse at this tyme ; 6890 

Of usur, and of symony also ; 

But certes lecchours did he grettest woo ; 

Thay schulde synge, if thay were hent ; 

And smale tythers thay were fouly schent. 

If eny persoun wold upon hem pleyne, 

Ther might astert him no pecunial peyne. 

For smale tythes and for smal offrynge. 

He made the poeple pitously to synge. 

For er the bisschop caught hem in his hook. 

They weren in the archedeknes book ; 6900 

And hadde thurgh his jurediccioun 

Power to have of hem correccioun. 

He had a sompnour redy to his hond, 

A slyer boy was noon in Engelond ; 

Ful prively he had his espiaile, 

That taughte him wher he might avayle. 

He couthe spare of lecchours oon or tuo. 

To techen him to four and twenty mo. 

For though this sompnour wood were as an hare, 

To telle his harlotry I wol not spare ; 6910 

For we ben out of here correycioun, 

Thay have of us no jurediccioun, 

Ne never schul to terme of alle her lyves. 

"Peter ! so been the wommen of the styves," 

Quod this Sompnour, " i-put out of oure cures."" 

" Pees ! with meschaunce and with mesa ventures," 

Thus sayd our host, " and let him telle his tale. 

Now telleth forth, although the Sompnour gale, 

Ne spareth nought, myn owne maister deere." 

This false theef, the sompnour, quoth the frere, 
Had alway bawdes redy to his hond 9931 

As eny hauk to lure in Engelond, 
That told him al the secre that thay knewe, 
For here acqueintaunce was not come of newe ; 

6897. smale tythes and for smal offrynge. The sermons of the friars in the 
fourteenth century were 'most frequently desigTied to impress the absolute 
duty of paying full tithes and offerings, which wore enforced by a number of 
legends and stories. 

6915. quod this Hjmijmour. The Ms. Harl. roads here, They beth i-put cU 
cut, &c. 



THE FRERES TALE. 209 



rhay were his approwours prively. 
He took himself a gret profyt therby ; 
His maister knew nat ahvay what he wan. 
Withoute maiindement, a lewed man 
He couthe sompne, up peyne of Cristes curs, 
And thay were glad to fille wel his purs, SOU J 

And make him grete festis atte nale. 
And right as Judas hadde purses smale 
And was a theef, right such a theef was he, 
His maister had not half his duete ; 
He was (if I schal give him his laude) 
A theef, a sompnour, and eek a baude. 
And he had wenches at his retenue. 
That whethir that sir Robert or sir Hughe, 
Or Jak, or Rauf, or who so that it were 
That lay by hem, thay told it in his eere. 5940 

Thus was the wenche and he of oon assent. 
And he wold fecche a feyned maundement, 
And sompne hem to chapitre bothe tuo. 
And pyle the man, and let the wenche go. 
Than wold he sayn, " I schal, frend, for thy sake, 
Don strike the out of oure lettres blake ; 
The thar no more as in this cas travayle ; 
I am thy frend ther I the may avayle." 
Certeynly he knew of bribours mo 

Than possible is to telle in yeres tuo ; 6950 

For in this world nys dogge for the bowe. 
That can an hurt deer from an hoi y-knowe 
Bet than this sompnour knew a leccheour, 
Or avoutier, or ellis a paramour ; 
And for that was the fruyt of al his rent, 
Therfore theron he set al his entent. 
And so bifel, that oones on a day 
This sompnour, ever wayting on his pray. 
Rod forth to sompne a widew, an old ribibe. 



6<>32. Judas. According to the medieval legends, Judas was Christ's 
urse-bearcr, and embezzled a part of the money which wa3 given to him for 
is master. We are informed in the metrical life of Judas, in Ms. Harl. 'ZTil 



(fol. 2li8 vo.), that 



Siththe oure Loverdhim makede apostle to fondi his mod, 

And siththe pursberer of his pans to spene ai his god ; 

For meni men gyve oure Loverd god that were of gode thogbt, 

To Busteyui his apostles, other nadde he noght. 

Ac tho Judas withinne was and his mighte founde, 

Of oure Loverdea god that he wiste he stal al to grounde : 

When he mighte ol eche thing, the teothing he wolde stele: 

A schrewe he was ;«.! hir. lyf, y ne raai no leng hele. 

Wel wiste oure Loverd thas and al his lither dede, 

Ac natheles he mo»te f ulf ulle that the prophetea sede. 

14 



2t0 TWE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Feynyng a cause, for he wolde han a bribe. 6960 

And happed that he say bifore him ryde 

A gay yemaii under a forest syde ; 

A bow he bar, and arwes bright and kene, 

He had upon a courtepy of grene. 

An hat upon his heed, with frenges blake. 

** Sir," quod this sompnour, "heyl and wel overtake ! " 

*' Welcome," quod he, " and every good felawe j 

Wliider ridestow under this grene schawe ? ** 

Sayde this yiman, " Wiltow fer to day ? " 

Tliis sompnour answerd, and sayde, " Nay. (5070 

Her faste by," quod he, "is myn entent 

To ryden, for to reysen up a rent, 

That longith to my lordes duete." 

" Artow than a bayely ? " *' Ye," quod he. 

He dur^te not for verray filth and schame 

Sayn that lie was a sompnour, for the name. 

'' De par dieux ! " quod the yeman^ " iieve brotner, 
Thou art a bayly, and I am another. 
I am unknowen, as in this contre ; 

Of thin aoqueintance I wol praye the, 6980 

And eek of brotherheed, if it yow lest. 
1 have gold and silver in my chest ; 
If that the happe come into oure schire, 
Al schal be thin, right as thou wolt desire. *" 
*' Qraunt mercy,'' quod this sompnour, *' by my faith J " 
Everich in otheres bond his trouthe laith, 
For to be sworne bretheren til thay deyen. 
In daliaunce forth thay ride and pleyen. 

This sompnour, which that was as ful of jangles, 
As ful of venym ben these weryangles, 6990 

And ever enquering upon every thing, 
*' Brother," quod he, " wher now is your dvvellyD{>', 
Another day if that I schuld yow secche? " 
This yiman him answered in softe speche : 
" Brother," quod he, '* fei in the north contre, 
Wheras I hojje somtyme 1 schal th^ se. 
Er we depart I schal the so wel wisse, 
That of myn hous ne schaltow never misse." 
" Now, brother," quod this sompnour, " I yow pray, 
Teche me, whil that W' ryden by the way, 7000 

6960. han a. These words are omilted in the Harl. siid leaned. Mss. 

6974. Ye. This word is omitted in the Hail. Ms., probably by an over- 
sight. 

6987. sworne bretheren. The custom of swearing fraternity has been al- 
rcadv alluded to in a note on 1. 1134. 

6yy5 rwrth contrL According to medieval legends, hell lay to the north 
(see my Patrick's Purgatory), ao that there is irouj iu this reply. 



THE FRERES TALE. 



Syn that ye ben a baily as am I, 

Som subtilte, as tel me faithfully 

In myn office how that I may wynne. 

And spare not for consciens or for synne, 

But, as ray brother, tel me how do ye." 

" Now, by my trouthe, brothir myn," sayd he, 
*' As I schal telle the a faithful tale. 
My wages ben ful streyt and eek f ul smale ; 
My lord to me is hard and daungerous, 
And myn office is ful laborous ; 7010 

And therfor by extorciouns I lyve, 
Fosoth I take al that men wil me give, 
Algate by sleighte or by violence 
Fro yer to yer I wynne my despence ; 
I can no better telle faithfully." 

'* Now certes," quod this sompnour, '* so fare I ; 
I spare not to take, God it woot, 
But if it be to hevy or to hoot. 
What I may gete in counseil prively, 
No more consciens of that have I. T020 

Nere myn extorcions, I might not lyven, 
Ne of such japes I wil not be schriven. 
Stomak ne conscience know I noon ; 
I schrew thes schrifte-fadres everychoon. 
Wei be we met, by God and seint Jame I 
But, leve brother, telle me thy name," 
Quod this sompnour. In this mene while 
This yeman gan a litel for to smyle. 
*' Brothir," quod he, *' woltow that I the telle ? 
I am a feend, my dwellyng is in helle, 70S0 

And her I ryde about my purchasyng. 
To wit^ wher men wol give me eny thing. 
My purchas is theffect of al my rent. 
Loke how thou ridest for the same entent 
To Wynne good, thou rekkist never how, 
Right so fare I, for ryde I wolde now 
Unto the worldes ende for a pray." 

*' A ! " quod the sompnour, " benedicite, what ye say ? 
I wende ye were a yeman trewely. 

Ye han a mannes schap as wel as I. 7040 

Have ye a figure than determinate 

7009. hard. The Harl, Ms. reads streyt, probably a mere error, arising 
from the occurrence of the same word in the preceding line. 

7018. to hevy or to hoot. This was a common expression . Tyrwhitt quotes 
an exafmple frem Froissart, v. i. c. 2:z9, ne laisaoient rien a prendre, s'il n'e-<- 
toit trop chaud, trop froid, ou trop pesant. 

7041. figure than determinate. In this and the foliowinj,' li les, (Chancer 
enters into the ordineixy philoBophical speculations of hia time ou the nature 
01 syixits. 



212 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



In helle, ihf 1- tm ben in your estate ? " 
" Is'ciy, certeynly," quod ho, " ther have we non» 
But whan us likith we can take us on, 
Oi eUis make yow seme that we ben schape 
Som tyme hke a man, or like an ape ; 
Or hk an aungel can I ryde or go ; 
It is no wonder thing though it be so, 
A lousy jogelour can decey ve the, 

And, i)arfay, yit can I more craft than he." 7050 

" Why," quod this sompnour, " ryde ye than or goon 
In sondry wyse, and nought alway in oon ? " 
*' For," quod he, '* we wol us in such forme make, 
As most abil is oure pray to take." 
" What makith yow to have al this labour ? " 
" Ful many a cause, liev^e sir sompnour," 
Sayde this feend. " But al thing hath a tyme ; 
The day is schort, and it is passed prime, 
And yit ne wan I nothing in this day \ 
I wol entent to wynnyng, if I may, 7060 

And not entende oure thinges to declare ; 
For, brother myn, thy wit is al to bare 
To understond, although I told hem the. 
For but thou axid whi laboure we ; 
For som tyme we ben Goddis instrumentes. 
And menes to don his comaundementes. 
Whan that him list, upon his creatures, 
In divers act and in divers figures. 
WMthouten him we have no might certeyn, 
If that him liste stonde ther agayn. 7070 

And som tyme at our prayer have we leeve, 
Only the body, and not the soule greve ; 
Witness on Jobe, whom we dide ful wo. 
And som tyme have we might on bothe tuo, 
This is to say of body and soule eeke. 
And som tyme be we sulTred for to seeke 
Upon a man, and doon his soule unrest 
And not his body, and al is for the best. 
Whan he withstondith oure temptacioun, 
It is a cause of his savacioun, 7080 

7044. take. The Harl. Mb. has maJt(r, but the reading of the Lansd. Ms., 
here adopted, seems best. 

704o. yow seme, i. e. make it seem to you. Tvrwhitt reads wene, but the 
readii'-e' of the present text is supported by the best MSS. 

704:'. lou.-y Jogelour. The jopelour (Joculator) \\a.» originally the minstrel, 
and ai an earlier period was an iiuponant member of society. He always 
combined luiniiory .uid mountebank performances with poetry and music. 
In CliauceiV time he had so far degenerated as to have become a mere 
mountebank, and, as it appears, to have merited the euerg.*tjc epithet here 
opplieU to hiiu. 



i 



THE FRERES TALE. 213 



Al be it so it was nought oure entent 

He schuld be sauf, but that we wold him hePit. 

And som tyme we ben servaunt unto man 

As to therchebisschop seynt Dunstan, 

And to thapostolis, servaunt was I." 

" Yit tel me," quod the sompnour, '* faithfully, 
Llake ye yow newe bodies alway 
Of elementz ? " The fend answerde, " Nay ; 
Som tyme we feyne, and som tyme we ryse 
With dede bodies, in ful wonder wyse, 7090 

And speke renably, and as fair and wel 
As to the Phitonissa dede Samuel ; 
A nd yit wol somme say, it was not he. 
1 do no fors of your divinite. 
But oon thing warne I the, I wol not jape, 
Thou wilt algates wite how we ben schape : 
Thow schalt herafter-ward, my brother deere, 
Com, wher the nedith nothing for to leere, 
For thou schalt by thin oughn experience 
Conne in a chayer reden of this sentence 7100 

Bet than Virgile, whils he was on lyve. 
Or Daunt also. Now let us ryde blyve, 
For 1 wol holde company with the, 
Til it be so that thou forsake me." 
"Nay," quod the sompnour, "that schal nought be- 

tyde. 
I am a yiman that knowen is ful wyde ; 
My trouthe wol I hold, as in this caas. 
For though thou be the devyl Sathanas, 
My trouthe wol I holde to the, my brother, 
As I am swore, and ech of us to other, 7110 

For to be trewe bretheren in this caas ; 
For bothe we goon abouten oure purchas. 
Tak thou thi part, and that men wil the gyven, 
And I schal myn, thus may we botho lyven. 
And if eny of us have more than other, 
Let him be trewe, and part it with his brother." 
*' I graunte," quod the devel, " by my fay 1 " 
And with that word thay riden forth her way ; 
And right at thentryng of a townes ende, 7119 

To which this sompnour schope him for to wende, 
Thay scigh a cart, that chargid was with hay, 

7084. seynt Dunstan. This probably alludes to some popular story of Dun- 
stan now lost. 

7090. dede todies. The adoption of the bodies of the deceased by evil 
6piiit8 ill their wanderings upon earth, was an importnnt part of the medio- 
val superstitions of Una country, and enters largely into a variety of legend: 
ary stories found in the old chroniclers. 



^4 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Which that a carter drof forth in his way. 

Deep was the way, for which the carte stood ; 

This carter smoot, and cryde as he wer wood, 

" Hayt, brok ; hayt, stot ; what spare ye for the 

stoones ? 
The fend," quod he, " yow fech body and bones, 
As ferforthly as ever wer ye fohd ! 
So moche wo as I have with yow tholid 1 
The devyl have al, bothe cart and hors and hay ! " 
This sompnour sayde, " Her schal we se play." 7130 
And ner the feend he drough, as nought ne were, 
Ful prively, and rouned in his eere, 
** Herke, my brother, harke, by thi faith I 
Ne herest nought thou what the carter saith ? 
Ilent it anoon, for he hath given it the, 
Bothe hay and caples, and eek his cart, pard ! " 

" Nay," quod the devyl, " God wot, never a del, 
It is nought his entente, trustith wel. 
Ask it thiself, if thou not trowist me, 
Or ellis stint a while and thou schalt se." 7140 

This carter thakketh his hors upon the croupe, 
And thay bygon to drawen and to stowpe. 
" Hayt now," quod he, " ther Jhesu Crist yow blesse, 
And al his hondwerk, bothe more and lesse ! 
That was wel twight, myn oughne lyard, boy, 
I pray God save thy body and seint Loy. 
Now is my cart out of the sloo parde ! " 
" Lo 1 brother," quod the feend, " what told I the ? 
Her may ye seen, myn owne deere brother. 
The carter sjDak oon thing, and thought another. 
Let us go forth abouten our viage ; 7151 

Hier wy-nne I nothing upon cariage." 

Whan that thay comen somwhat out of toune. 
This sompnour to his brothir gan to roune ; 
*' Brothir," quod he, '* her wonyth an old rebekke, 
That had almost as lief to leese hir necke. 
As for to give a peny of hir good. 
I wol han twelf pens though that sche go wood. 
Or I wol somone hir to oure office ; 
And yit, God wot, I know of hir no vice. 7160 

But for thou canst not, as in this contr , 
Wynne thy cost, tak her ensample of me." 
This sompnour clapped at the widowes gate ; 

IIZQ. aeplay. The Lansd. Ms. reads, Aat?c ajsicic. Tyrwhitt's reading is, 
have a pray. 

7 158. wol han twelf. By a curious error of the scribe these three words ore 
contracted into tcolfin the Harl. Ms, 



THE FRERES TALE. 215 



'* Coiu out," quod he, '* thou okle viritrate ; 

I trowe thou hast som frere or prest with the." 

*' Who clappith ther ? " sayd this widow, " benedicite i 

God save yow, sir ! what is your swete wulle ? " 

" I have," quod he, " a somonaunce of a bille, 

Up payne of cursyng, lokethat thou be 

To morwe biforn our erchedeknes kne, 7170 

To answer to the court of certeyn thinges." 

''Now," quod sche, "Jhesu Christ, and king of 

kinges, 
So wisly helpe me, as I ne may. 
I have ben seek, and that ful many a day. 
I may not goon so fer," quod sche, *' ne ryde, 
But I be deed, so prikith it in my syde. 
May I nat aske a lybel, sir sompnour, 
And answer ther by my procuratour 
To suche thing as men wol oppose me? " 
" Yis," quod this sompnour, " pay anoon, let se, 
Twelf pens to me, and I tiie wil acquite. 7181 

I schal no profyt have therby but hte ; 
My mayster hath the profyt and not I. 
Com of, and let me ryden hastily ; 
Uif me my twelf pens, I may no lenger tary." 
" Twelf pens ? " quod sche, " now lady seinte Mary 
So wisly help me out of care and synne. 
This wyde world though that I schulde wynne, 
Ne have I not twelf pens withinne myn hold. 
Ye knowen wel that I am i^ore and old ; 7190 

Kithe youre almes on me pore wrecche." 
*' Nay than," quod he, " the foule fend me fecche I 
If I thexcuse, though thouschalt be spilt." 
*' Alias I " quod sche, " God w^ot, I have no gilt." 
" Pay me," quod he, " or b}^ the swet seint Anne I 
As I wol bere away thy newe panne 
For dette, which thou owest me of old, 
Whan that thou madest thin housbond cokewold, 
I payd at hom for thy correccioun." 
"Thoulixt," quod sche, " by my savacioun, 7200 

Ne was I never er now, wydow ne wyf, 
Somound unto your court in al my lyf ; 
Ne never I was but of my body trewe. 
Unto the devel rough and blak of hiewe 
Give I thy body and the panne also I " 
And whan the devyl herd hir curse so 

7186. twelf p..ns. The penny was at this time a coin of much greater rela* 
tive value than the coin known under that name at the present oay. 



216 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Upon hir knees, lie sayd in this manere : 

** Now, Mabely, myn owne modir deere, 

Is this your wil in ernest that ye seye ? " 

** The devel," quod sche, " fecche him er he deye, 

And panne and al, but he wol him repente ! " 7211 

" Nay, olde stot, that is not myn entente," 
Quod this sompnour, '* for to repente me 
For eny thing that I have had of the ; 
1 wold I had thy smok and every cloth." 

" ]Sow brothir," quod the devyl, *' be not wroth ; 
Thy body and this panne is myn by right. 
Tiiow sclialt with me to helle yit to night, 
Wher thou schalt knowen of cure privet 
More than a maister of divinit ." 7220 

And with that word the foule fend him hente ; 
Body and soule, he with the devyl wente, 
Wher as the sompnours han her heritage ; 
And God that maked after his ymage 
Mankynde, save and gyde us alle and some, 
And leeve this Sompnour good man to bycome. 

" Lordyngs, I couth han told yov/," quod the frere, 
" Had I had leysir for this Sompnour here, 
After the text of Crist, and Powel, and Jon, 
And of oure other doctours many oon, 7230 

Such peynes tliat our herte might agrise, 
Al be it so, no tonge may devyse. 
Though that I might a thousand wynter telle. 
The peyn of thilke cursed hous of helle. 
But for to kepe us from that cursed place, 
Wakith, and prayeth Jhesu for his grace, 
So kepe us fro the temptour Sathanas. 
Herknith this word, beth war as in this cas. 
The lyoun syt in his awayt alway 

To slen the innocent, if that he may. 7240 

Disposith youre hertes to withstonde 
The fend, that wolde make yow thral and bonde , 
He may not tempte yow over your might, 
For Crist wol be your champioun and knight ; 
And prayeth, that oure Sompnour him repente 
Of his mysdede, er that the fend him hente." 

THE SOMPNOURES PROLOGE. 

This Sompnour in his styrop up he stood, 

Upon the Frere his herte was so wood, 

That lyk an aspen leef he quok for ire. 

•' Lordyngs," quod he, *' but oon thing I desire ; 



THE SOMPNOURES PROLOGE. 21 7 

I yow biseke, that of your curtesye, VZhl 

Syn ye haii herd this false Fiere lye, 

As suffrith me 1 luay my tale telle. 

Tills Frere bosteth that he knowith helle, 

And, God it wot, that is litil wonder, 

Freres and feendes been but litel asonder. 

For, pardy, ye han often tyuie herd telle, 

How that a frere ravyscht was to helle 

In spirit ones by a visioun. 

And as an aungel lad him up and doun, 72G0 

To schewen him the peynes that ther were, 

In al the i)lace saugh.he not a frere, 

Of other folk he saugh y-nowe in wo. 

Unto this aungel spak this frere tho : 

' Now, sire,' quod he, * han freres such a grace, 

That noon of hem schal comen in this place ? ' 

' Yis,' quod this auiigil, ' many a mylioun.' 

And unto Sathanas he lad him doun. 

' And now ha h Sathanas,' saith he, * a tayl 

Broder than of a carrik is the sayl.' 7270 

* Hold up thy tayl, thou Sathanas,' quod he, 

* Schew forth thyn ers, and let the frere se 
Wher is the nest of freres in this place.' 
And er than half a forlong way of space, 
Right so as bees swarmen out of an hyve. 
Out of the develes ers thay gonne dryve, 
Twenty thousand freres on a route. 

And thorughout helle swarmed al aboute, 

And comen agen, as fast as thay may goon, 

And in his ers thay crepen everichoon. 7280 

He clappid his tayl agayn, and lay ful stille. 

This frere, v:han he loked had his fille 

Upon the torment of this sory jilace, 

His spirit God restored of his grace 

Unto his body agayn, and he awook ; 

But natheles for fere yit he quook, 

So was the develes ers yit in his mynde, 

That is his heritage of verray kynde. 

God save yow alle, save this cursed Frere ; 

My prolong wol I endo in this manere." 72G0 



218 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



THE SOMPNOURES TAIiE. 

LoRDTNGS, ther is in Engelond, I gesse, 

A mersschly lond called Holdernesse, 

In which ther went a lymytour aboute 

To preche, and eek to begge, it is no doubte. 

And so bifel it on a day this frere 

Had preched at a chirch in his manere, 

And specially aboven every thing 

Excited he the poepul in his preching 

To trentals, and to give for Goddis sake, 

Wherwith men mighten holy houses make, 730C 

Ther as divine servj^s is honoured, 

Nought ther as it is wasted and devoured ; 

Neither it needeth not for to be give 

As to possessioneres, that mow lyve, 

Thanked be God, in wele and abundaxmce. 

*' Trentals," sayd he, ** delyvereth fro peiiaunce 

Her frendes soules as wel eld as yonge, 

Ye, whanne that thay hastily ben songe. 

Nought for to hold a prest jolif and gay. 

He syngith not but oon masse in a day. 7310 

Delyverith out," quod he, ** anoon the soules 

Ful hard it is, with fleischhok or with oules 

To ben y-clawed, or brend, or i-bake ; 

Now speed yow hastily for Cristes sake." 

And whan this frere had sayd al his entent. 
With qui cum patre forth his way he went. 
Whan folk in chirch had give him what hem lest, 
He went his Avay, no lenger wold he rest, 
With scrip and pyked staf, y-touked hye ; 
In every hous he gan to pore and prye, 7320 

The Sompnoures Tale. I have not met with this story elsewhere. It is a 
bitter satire on th« covetousness of the friars, who were eager and officious 
attendants on the death-beds of those who had anything to give away. In 
this respect it may be compared with the satirical notices in J'ie7-s PloiujJi- 
mans Creede. 

7292, Holdernesse. This district lies on the coast of Yorkshire. 

7300. houses. The Harl. Ms. reads soules. 

73(i4. possessioneres— i. e. the regular orders of monks, who possessed landed 
property and enjoyed rich revenues. The friars were forbidden by their rule 
to possess property, which they only did under false pretences : they depended 
for su Import on voluntary offerings. 

730G. Trentals. A service of thirty masses, for which, of course, the friars 
required a much greater sum than for a single mass. 

7311. anoon. This word is omitted in the Harl, Ms. 



7312. fleischhok or with oules. In the old paintings and illuminations repre- 
entiiig the infernal regions, the fiends are pictured tearing and piercing the 
ncked with hooks and other similar instruments, while they are roasting in 



eentiiig the infernal regions, the fiends are pictured tearing and piercing the 
wicked with hooks and other similar instruments, while they are roastiuf "- 
Ures and boiling in pots, and tormented in other similar manners. 

7316. qui cum patre. The conclusion of the formula of final benedict 
Ms. Harl. omits the words his way, which seem necessary for the metxe. 



THE SOMPNOURES TALE. 219 



And beggyd mele or chese, or ellis corn. 

His felaw had a staf typped with horn, 

A payr of tabhs al of y vory, 

And a poyntel y-pohscht fetisly. 

And wroot the names alway as he stood 

Of alle folk that gaf him eny good, 

Ascaunce that he wolde for hem preye. 

" Gif us a busshel whet, or malt, or reye, 

A Goddes kichil, or a trip of chese, 

Or elles what yow hst, we may not chese ; 7330 

A Goddes halpeny, or a masse peny ; 

Or gif us of youre braune, if ye have eny, 

A dagoun of your blanket, leeve dame, 

Oure suster deer, — lo I her I write your name — 

Bacoun or beef, or such thing as we fynde." 

A stourdy harlot ay went hem byhynde, 

That was her hostis man, and bar a sak, 

And what men gaf hem, layd it on his bak. 

And whan that he was out atte dore, anoon 

He planed out the names everychoon, 7340 

That he biforn had writen in his tablis ; 

He served hem with nyfles and with fablis. 

**Nay, ther thou lixt, thou Sompnour," SAyd tho 
Frere. 
**Pees," quod our host, *' for Cristes moder deere, 
Tel forth thy tale, and spare it not at al." 
*' So thrive I," quod the Sompnour, **so I schal ! " 

So long he wente hous by hous, til he 
Cam til an hous, ther he was wont to be 
Refresshid mor than in an hundrid placis. 
Syk lay the housbond man, whos that the place is, 
Bedred upon a couche lowe he lay. 7351 

*' Beus hie,'' quod he, " O Thomas, frend, good day ! " 
Sayde this frere al curteysly and softe. 
" O Thomas, God yeld it yow, ful ofte 
Have I upon this bench i-fare fel wel. 
Her have I eten many a mery mel." 
And fro the bench he drof away the cat, 
And layd adoun his potent and his hat. 



7329, A Goddes kichil. Tyrwhitt explains this phrase by a note of M. De 
ta Monnaye on the Contes of Bonaventure des Perieis, t. ii, p. 107. /Jelle 
serrure (It Dieu . . . expression du petit pnuple, q\u rapporte pieusenient 
tout & Dieu. — Rien n'est plus c»mniun dans la boache des bonnes vieilles, que 
ces espfecea d'H^braismes : // m'en coUte un bel icu de Dieu! It ne vie restt que 
ce pauvre tnfant de Dieu; Donnez-moi une binite auinone de Dieti. So we 
have two lines below, a Goddes halpeny. 

7352. J)eus hie .' God be hero ! the ordinary formula of benediction on en- 
teriug a house. 



220 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And eek his scrip, and set him soft adoun ; 

His felaw was go walkid in the toun 7860 

Forth with his- knave, into the ostelrye, 

Wher as he schop him thilke night to lye. 

" O deere maister," quod the seeke man, 
• * How have ye fare siththe March bygan ? 
I saygh yow nought this fourtenight or more.*' 

" God wot.." quod he, " labord have I ful sore ; 
And specially for thy salvacioun 
Have I sayd many a jjrecious orisoun, 
And for myn other frendes, God hem blesse. 
I have to day ben at your chirche at messe, 7370 

And sayd a sermoun after my simple wit. 
Nought al after the text of holy wryt. 
For it is hard for yow, as I suppose, 
And therfor wil I teche yow ay the glose. 
Glosyng is a ful glorious thing certayn, 
For letter sleth, so as we clerkes sayn. 
Ther have I taught hem to be charitable, 
And spend her good ther it is resonable ; 
And ther I seigh our dame, wher is she ? " 
" Yond in the yerd I trow6 that sche be," 7380 

Sayde this man, " and sche wil come anoon." 

" Ey, mayster, welcome be ye, by seint Johan I " 
Sayde this wyf, " how fare ye hertily ? " 

The frere ariseth up ful curteysly. 
And her embracith in his armes narwe, 
And kist hir swete, and chirkith as a sparwe 
With his lippes : " Dame," quod he, " right wel, 
As he that is your servaunt everydel. 
Thankyd be God, that yow gaf soule and lif, 
Yit saugh I not this day so fair a wyf 7390 

In al the chirche, God so save me." 

" Ye, God amend defautes, sir," quod sche, 
" Algates welcome be ye, by my fay." 
" Qraunt mercy, dame ; this have I found alway. 
But of your grete goodnes, by youre leve, 
I wolde pray yow that ye yow not greeve, 
I wil with Thomas speke a litel throwe ; 
These curates ben ful negligent and slowe 
To grope tendurly a conscience. 

In schrift and preching is my diligence, 7400 

And study in Petres wordes and in Poules, 
I walk and fissche Cristen mennes soules, 
To yelde Jhesu Crist his propre rent ; 
To spreden his word is al myn entent." 

** Now, by your leve, o deere sir," quod sche« 



THE SOMPNOURES TALE 221 

" Chyd him right wel for seinte Trinite. 

He is as angry as a pissemyre, 

Though that he have al that ho can desire, 

Though I him wrye on night, and make him warm, 

And over him lay my leg other myn arm, 7410 

He groneth hk our boor, that lith in sty. 

Othir disport of him right noon have I, 

I i^iay please him in no maner caas." 

" O Thomas, jeo vousdij, Tlioiiias, Thomas, 
This makth the feend, this moste ben amendid. 
Ire is a thing that highe God defend id, 
And therof wold I speke a word or tuo." 

** Now, maister," quod the wyf, " er that I go, 
What wil ye dine ? I wil go theraboute." 
*'Now, dame," quod he, ^' jeo vous dy saitnz doute, 
Have I not of a capoun but the lyvere, 7421 

And of your softe brede but a schivere, 
And after that a rostyd pigges heed, 
(But that I wold for me no best were deed) 
Than had I with yow homly sufflsaunce. 
I am a man of litel sustinaunce. 
My spirit hath his fostryng on the Bible. 
The body is ay so redy and so penyble 
To wake, that mystomak is destroyed. 
I pray yow, dame, that ye be not anoyed, 7430 

For I so frendly yow my counseil schewe ; 
By God ! 1 nold not telle it but a fewe." 

" Now, sir," quod sche, *' but o word er I go. 
My child is deed withinne this wykes tuo. 
Soon after that ye went out of this toun." 

" His deth saugh I by revelaeioun," 
Sayde this frere, " at lioom in oure dortour 
I dar wel sayn, er that half an hour 
After his deth, I seigh him born to blisse 
In myn avysioun, so God me wisse. 7440 

So did our sextein, and our fermerere, 
That han ben trewe freres fifty yere ; 
Thay may now, God be thanked of his lone, 
Maken her jubile, and walk alloone. 
And up I roos, and al our covent eeke, 
With many a teere trilling on my cheeke, 

7444. juhiU. " See Duoange in v. Sempecfce. Peculiar honors and immiinl- 
tlfis were granted by the Kule of St. Benedict to those nioiik.s. ./«< '/ut7if/uci- 

finfa aunos hi ordive exeyerdnf.quas annum jul'ilienm rxepisse oulijo dicimas. 
t is probable that 8ome similar regiilatioi''- ^biaiiied in the other orders."— 
Tyrtchitt. The Hurl. JMs. has many iiislemi of fifty, wliich latter reading 
ia given by Me. liaiiad., and wuiild seem by the context to be the correct one. 



^22 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Tt Beum was our song, and nothing ellis, 

Withouten noys or claterying of bellis. 

Save that to Crist I sayd an orisoun, 

Tliankyng him of my revelacioun. 74^0 

For. sire ai:Ki dame, trustith me right wel, 

Our orisouns ben more effectuel, 

And more we se of Goddis secre thinges, 

Tlian borel folk, although that thay ben kinge3. 

We lyve in povert and in abstinence, 

And borel folk in riches and dispence 

Of mete and drink, and in her ful delyt 

We han al this worldes lust al in despyt. 

Lazar and Dives lyveden diversely, 

And divers guerdoun hadde thay thereby. 7460 

Who so wol praye, he must faste, and be clene, 

And fatte his soule, and make his body lene. 

We faren, as saith thapostil ; cloth and foode 

Sufficeth us, though thay ben not goode. 

The clennes and the fastyng of us freres 

Makith that Crist acceptith oure prayeres. 

Lo, Moyses fourty dayes and fourty night 

Fasted, er that the highe God of might 

Spak with him in the mount of Synay ; 

With empty wombe fastyng many a day, 7470 

Receyved he the lawe, that was writen 

With Goddis fynger ; and EU, wel ye witen, 

In mount Oreb, er he had any speche 

With highe God, that is oure lyves leche, 

He fastid, and was in contemplacioun. 

Aron, that had the temple in governacioun, 

And eek the other prestes everychoon, 

Into the temple whan thay schulden goon 

To preye for the poeple, and doon servise, 

Thay nolden drinken in no maner wise 7480 

No drynke, which that dronke might hem make, 

But ther in abstinence prey and wake, 

Lest that thay dedin; tak heed what I say — 

But thay ben sobre that for the pepul pray — 

War that I say — no mor ] for it suffisith. 

Oure Lord Jhesu, as oure lore devysith, 

7464. hard /'o/Jl-— laymen. The teini appears to have arisen from the mate- 
rial of their cluih.iig, which was not used by the clergy. 

7458. lust al. I have adopted this reading from the Lansdowne ftls., ae 
the reading of the Harl. Ms., delit, seems to have been an error of the scribe, 
who had in his ears the last word of the preceding line. 

7461. he must. These words, omitted in the Harl. Ms., Beem necessary to 

7486. oure lore. The Laned- Ms. reads holy God, and Tyrwhitt giveo hoi*/ 
writ. 



TEE SOMPNOURES TALE. 223 



Gaf us ensampil of fastyng and prayeres ; 

Tlierfore we mendinauntz, we sely freres, 

Ben wedded to jjovert and to continence, 

To charite, humblesse, and abstinence, 7490 

To persecucioun for rightwisnesse, 

To wepyng, misericord, and clennesse. 

And therfor may ye seen that oure prayeres 

(1 speke of us, we uiendeaunts, we freres) 

Ben to the hihe God mor acceptable 

Than youres, with your festis at your table. 

Fro Paradis first, if I schal not lye, 

Was man out chaced for his glotonye, 

And chast was man in Paradis certeyn. 

But now herk, Thomas, what I schal the seyn, 7500 

I ne have no tixt of it, as I suppose. 

But I schal fynd it in a maner glose ; 

That specially our swete Lord Jhesus 

Spak this by freres, whan he sayde thus. 

Blessed be thay that pover in spirit ben. 

And so forth in the gospel ye may seen, 

Whether it be likir oure professioun. 

Or heris that swymmen in possessioun. 

Fy on her pomp, and on her glotenye, 

And on her lewydnesse ! I hem defye. 7510 

Me thinkith thay ben lik Jovynian, 

Fat as a whal, and walken as a swan ', 

Al vinolent as hotel in the spence. 

Her prayer is of ful gret reverence ; 

Whan thay for soules sayn the Psalm of David, 

Lo, boef thay say, Cor meurneructamt. 

Who folwith Cristes gospel and his lore 

But we, that humble ben, and chast, and pore, 

Workers of Goddes word, not auditours ? 

Therfor right as an hauk upon a sours 7520 

Upspringeth into thaer, right so prayeres 

Of charitabil and chaste busy freres 

Maken her sours to Goddis eeres tuo. 

Thomas, Thomas, so mote I ryde or go, 

And by that Lord that clepid is seint Ive, 

Ner thou oure brother, schuldestow never thrive. 

In oure chapitre pray we day and night 

To Crist, that he the sende hele and might 

7511. Jovynian. Probably an allusion to au emperor Jovluian, celebrated 
ii\ the Gesta Romanoruvi (e. lix.) aud in other medieval legends for his pride 
and luxury. In the sixteenth century, the story was in France worked into a 
morality, under the title L'oryiieil et presomption de I'empereur Jovinicn. 
It is the same story as thai of Kobert, king of Sicily, in the early Jint^lish ro- 
uiiuice. 



124 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Thy body for to welden hastily." 

" God wot," quod he, " therof nought feele I, 75S0 
As help me Crist, as I in fewe yeeres 
Have spendid upon many divers freres 
Ful many a pound, yit fare I never the bet; 
Certeyn my good have I almost byset. 
Farwel my gold, for it is almost ago." 
The frere answerd, *' O Thomas, dostow so? 
What needith yow dyverse freres seche ? 
What needith him that hath a parfyt lechc 
To sechen othir leches in the toun ? 

Youre inconstance is youre confusioun. 7540 

Holde ye than me, or elles oure covent, 
To praye for yow insufficient ? 
Thomas, that jape is not worth a myte ; 
Youre malady is for we have to lite. 
A ! give that covent half a quarter otes ; 
A I give that covent four and twenty grotes ; 
A ! give that frere a peny, and let him go ; 
Nay, nay, Thomas, it may nought be so. 
What is a forthing worth depart in tuelve ? 
Lo, ech thing that is ooned in himselve 7550 

Is more strong than whan it is to-skatrid. 
Thomas, of me thou schalt not ben y-flatrid, 
Thow woldist have our labour al for nought. 
The hihe God, that al this world hath wrought, 
Saith, that the werkman is worthy of his hyre. 
Thomas, nought of your tresor I desire 
As for myself, but for that oure covent 
To pray for yow is ay so diligent ; 
And for to buylden Cristes holy chirche. 
Thomas, if ye wil lerne for to wirche, 7560 

Of buyldyng up on chirches may ye fynde 
If it be good, in Thomas lyf of Ynde. 
Ye lye her ful of anger and of ire, 
With which the devel set your hert on fuyre, 
And chyden her the holy innocent 
Your wyf, that is so meke and pacient. 
And therfor trow me, Thomas, if thou list, 
Ne stryve nought with thy wyf, as for thi best. 
And ber this word away now by thy faith, 
Touchinge such thing, lo, the wise man saith, 7570 

Withinne thin hous be thou no lyoun ; 
To thy subjects do noon oppressioun ; 

7562. in Thomas lyf of Ynde. I find nothing of the sort in the life of St. 
Thomas. Perhaps the friar is made m quote at random, reckouiug upon the 
IgDorauoe ol hu auditor. 



THE SOMPNOURES TALE 225 



Ne make thyn acqueyntis fro the fle. 

And yit, Thomas, eftsons 1 charge the, 

Be Avar for h-e that in thy bosom slepith, 

War for the serpent, that so slely crepith 

Under the gras, and styngith prively ; 

Be war, my sone, and werk paciently, 

For twenty thousend men han lost her lyves 

For stryvyng with her lemmans and her wyves. 7580 

Now syns ye han so holy and meeke a wif, 

What nedith yow, Thomas, to make strif ? 

Ther nys i-wis no serpent so cruel, 

When men trede on his tail, ne half so fel, 

As womman is, whan sche hath caught an ire ; 

Vengeans is thanne al that thay desire. 

Schortly may no man, by rym and vers, 

Tellen her thoughtes, thay ben so dyvers. 

Ire is a sinne, oon the grete of sevene, 

Abhominable to the God of hevene, 

And to himself it is destruccioun. 

This every lewed vicory or parsoun 7590 

Can say, how ire engendrith homicide ; 

Ire is in soth executour of pride. 

I couthe of ire seyn so moclie sorwe, 

My tale schulde laste til to morwe. 

Ire is the grate of synne, as saith the wise, 

To fle therfro ech man schuld him devyse. 

And therfor pray I God bothe day and night, 

An irons man God send him litil might. 

It is greet harm, and also gret pitie, 

To set an irons man in high degre. 

" Whilom ther was an irons potest ate, 
As seith Senek, that duryng his estaat 7600 

Upon a day out riden knightes tuo ; 
And, as fortune wolde right as it were so. 
That oon of hem cam home, that other nought. 
Anoon the knight bifore the juge is brought, 
That sayde thus. Thou hast thy felaw slayn. 
For which I deme the to deth certayn. 
And to anothir knight comaundid he, 
Go, lede him to the deth, I charge the. 
And happed, as thay wente by the weye 
Toward the place ther he schulde deye, 7610 

7587. Schortly, etc. This and the following line are not in Tyrwhitt's 
■.ext. 

7595. /re, etc. This line and the following are not in Tyrwhitt. 

7600. Senek. This story is told of Cornelius Piso, by Seneca, de Ira, lib. i. 
c. xvi. It is also found in the Gesta Romanorum, where it is told of an em- 
porer named Eraclius, 

15 



226 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



The knight com, which men wend hadde be deed. 

Than thoughten thay it were the beste reed 

To lede hem bothe to the juge agayn. 

Thay sayden, Lord, the knight hath not slayn 

His felaw ; lo, heer he stont hool on lyve. 

Ye schal be deed, quod he, so mote I thrive I 

That is to sayn, bothe oon, tuo, and thre. 

And to the firste knyght right tliiis spak he, 

I deme the, thou most algate be deed. 

Than thoughte thay it were the beste rede 7630 

To lede him forth into a fair mede. 

And, quod the juge, also thou most lese thin heed, 

For thou art cause why thy felaw deyth. 

And to the thridde felaw thus he seith, 

Thou hast nought doon that I comaun did the. 

And thus he let don sle hem alle thre. 

Irons Cambises was eek dronkelewe, 

And ay delited him to ben a schrewe ; 

And so bifel, a lord of his meigne. 

That loved vertues, and eek moralite, 

Sayd on a day bitwix hem tuo right thus, 

A lord is lost, if he be vicious ; 7630 

An irons man is lik a frentik best. 

In which ther is of wisdom noon arrest ; 

And dronkenes is eek a foul record 

Of any man, and namly of a lord. 

Ther is ful many an eyghe and many an eere 

Awaytand on a lord, and he not where. 

For Groddes love, drynk more attemperelly ; 

Wyn makith man to lese wrecchedly 

His mynde, and eek his lymes everichoon. 

The revers schal tow seen, quod he, anoon, 

And prove it by thin owne experience. 

That wyn ne doth to folk non such offence. 7640 

Ther is no wyn byreveth me my might 

Of hond, of foot, ne of myn eyghe sight 

And for despyt he dronke moche more 

An hundrid part than he had doon byfore ; 

And right anoon, this irous cursid wrecche 

Let this knightes sone anoon biforn him fecche, 

Coiiiaundyng hem thay schuld biforn him stonde ; 

And sodeinly he took his bowe on honde, 

7C12. Than thoughten, etc. I retain this and the following line, because 
they form part of the Harl. Ms., although they seem to be an unnecessary iu- 
terruption of the sense. They are not in Tyrwhitt. 

T627. Cambisms. See Seneca, de Ira, lib. iii. c. 14. 

7631. An irous man. These two lines are also peculiar to tlie Harl. Ms. 

7641. mi(jht. The Harl. Ms. reads wit. 



THE SOMPNOURES TALE. 227 



And up the streng he pulled to his eere. 

And with an arwe he slough the child right there. 

Now whetliir have I a sikur hond or noon ? 7651 

Quod he, Is al my mynde and might agoon ? 

Hath wyn byreyvd me myn eye sight ? 

What schuld I telle the answer of the knight ? 

liis sone was slayn, ther is no more to say. 

Be war therfor with lordes how ye play, 

Syngith Placebo, and I schal if I can. 

But if it be unto a pore man ; 

To a pore man men schuld his vices telle, 

But not to a lord, they he schuld go to helle. 7660 

Lo, irons Cirus, thilke Percien, 

How he destruyed the ryver of Gysen, 

For that an hors of his was dreynt therinne, 

Whan that he wente Babiloyne to wynne : 

He made that the ryver was so smal, 

That wommen mighte wade it over al. 

Lo, what sayde he, that so wel teche can ? 

Ne be no felaw to an irons man, 

Ne with no wood man walke by the way, 

Lest the repent. I wol no lenger say. 7670 

Now, Thomas, leve brother, leve thin ire, 

Thow schalt me fynde as just as is a squire ; 

Thyn anger doth the al to sore smerte, 

Hald not the develes knyf ay at thyn herte, 

But schewe to me al thy confessioun." 

" Nay," quod this syke man, " by seynt Symoun, 
I have ben schriven this day of my curate ; 
I have him told holly al myn estate. 
Nedith no more to sjjeken of it, saith he. 
But if me list of myn humihte." * 7G80 

" Gif me than of thy good to make our cloyster," 
Quod he, " for many a muscle and many an oyster 
Hath ben oure foode, our cloyster to arreyse, 
Whan other men lian ben ful wel at eyse ; 
And yit, God wot, unnethe the foundement 
Parformed is, ne of oure pavyment 
Is nought a tyle yit wathinne our wones ; 
By God, we owe yit fourty pound for stones. 

7657. Placebo. " The allusion is to an Anthem in the Romish church, trom 
Psalm cxyi. 9, which in the Vulgate stands thus : Placebo Domine in refjione 
virorum. Hence the complacent brother in the Rlarchant's Tale is called 
P/ace6o. "— Ty iwhitt. 

7662. Gysen. Seneca, Oe Ira, lib. iii. c, 31, from whom the story is taken, 
calls the river Gvudes. Sir John Maundeville telle thia story of the Euphrates, 

7674. ay. The Harl. .Ms. read? nlwuy, which seems lo destroy the metre. 

7687. a tyle. The jiavemeutb were made ot encaustic tiles, and therefor© 
must have been rather costly. 



228 THE CANTERBURY 1 ALES. 

Now help, Thomas, for him that harewed heile, 

Or elles moote we oure bookes selle ; 

And gif yow iakke oure predicacioun, 

Tliaiine goth the world al to destruccioun. 

For who so wold us fro the world byreve, 

So God me save, Thomas, by youre leve, 

He wolde byreve out of this world the sonne. 

For Avho can teche and werken as we conne ? 

And this is not of litel tyme," quod he, 

" But siththen Elye was her, or Elisee, 

Ban freres ben, fynde I of record, 

In charite, i-thanked be oure Lord. 7700 

Now, Thomas, help for saynte Charite. 

Adoun he sette him anoon on his kne. 

This sike man wex welneigh wood for ire, 
He wolde that the frere had ben on fuyre 
With his fals dissimulacioun. 
" Such thing as is in my possessioun," 
Quod he, " that may I geve yow and noon other ; 
Ye sayn me thus, how that I am your brother." 
" Ye certes," quod the frere, " trusteth wel ; 
I took our dame the letter, under oure selj' 7710 

*' Now wel," quod he, " and somwhat schal I give 
Unto your holy covent whils that 1 lyve; 
And in thyn hond thou schalt it have anoon, 
On this condicioun, and other noon. 
That thou depart it so, my deere brother, 
That every frere have as moche as other. 
This schaltow swere on thy professioun, 
Withouten fraude or cavillacioun." 
" 1 swere it," quod this frere, " upon my faith." 
And t her with his hond in his he laith ; 7720 

'• Lo here myn hond, in me schal be no lak." 
" Now thanne, put thyn hond doun at my bak," 
Sayde this man, " and grope wel byhynde, 
Bynethe my buttok, there schaltow fynde 
A thing, that I have hud in privete." 
" A 1 " thought this frere, " that schal go with me." 
And doun his hond he launcheth to the clifte. 
In hope for to fynde ther a gifte. 

And whan this syke man felte this frere 
Aboute his tuel grope ther and heere, 7730 

7698. or Elisee. The Harl. Ms. reads or Ele, an evident corruption by the 
Bcribe. 

7710. //*' letter. It was a common practice to grant under the conventual 
Real to biiiefacrurs and others a brotherly participation in the spiritual good 
works of the convent, cud in their expected reward after death. 



THE SOMPNOURES TALE. 220 



Amyd his hond he leet the freere a fart ; 

There is no capul drawyiis in a cart, 

That might hav^e let a fart of such a soun. 

The frere upstart, as doth a wood lyoun : 

*• A ! false cherl," quod he, '* for Goddes bones I 

This hastow in despit don for the noones ; 

Thou schalt abye this fart, if that I may," 

His meyne, which that herd of this affray, 
Com lepand in, and chased out the frere. 
And forth he goth with a foul angry cheere, 7740 

And fat his felaw, there lay his stoor; 
lie lokid as it were a wylde boor, 
And grynte with his teeth, so was he wroth. 
A stordy paas doun to the court he goth, 
Wher as ther wonyd a man of gret honour, 
To whom that he was alway confessour ; 
Tliis worthy man w^as lord of that v^illage. 
This frere com, as he were in a rage, 
Wher that this lord sat etyng at his bord ; 
Unnethe might the frere speke a M^ord, 7/50 

Til atte last he sayde, '* God yow se ! " 
This lord gan loke, and sayde, Benedicite ! 
What, frere Johan ! what maner world is this? 
I se wel that som thing is amys ; 
Ye loke as though the woode were ful of thevys. 
Sit doun anoon, and tel me what your gref is, 
And it schal ben amendit, if that I may." 

" I have," quod he, *' had a despit to day, 
God yelde yow, adoun in youre vilage, 
That in this world is noon so pore a page, 7760 

That he nold have abhominacioun 
Of that I have receyved in youre toun ; 
And yet ne grevith me no thing so sore, 
As that this elde cherl, with lokkes hore, 
Blasphemed hath our holy covent eeke." 
" Now, maister," quod this lord, " I yow biseke." 

7740. ♦• The remainder of this tale \a omitied in Mss. B. G. and Bod, B., 
and iiiftiead of it tliey give us the following Lame and impotent conclusion ■ 

He ne had ii')fjlit ellis U>r his sernii>n 

To pan among his breihren when he cam home- 

And thus is this tale iduii . 

For we were almoBt att the toun. 

I only niiMiiion this to shuw what liberties some copyists have taken with oul 
autli'T "- Tj/'ic/iUt. 

7i44 tkevotir'. The larger coiinlry-housee consisted generally of an en- 
closed <'(iiirt. tn.in wlucli pircumsiance tliis name was usually given to the 
manor'ai lesni'^m-e, and it has been preserved to modern timca ae a common 
t/eiiU fui geiaieinen's' seals. 



2ri0 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



" No maister, sir," quod he, " but servitour, 

Though 1 have had in scole such honour. 

God Hkith not that Raby men us calle, 

Neither in market, neytiier in your large halle." 7770 

*' No fors," quod he, " tellith me al your greef." 

This frere sayd, " Sire, an odious meschief 

This day bytid is to myn ordre and to me, 

And so pa?' consequens to ech degre 

Of holy chirche, God amend it soone ! " 

" Sir," quod the lord, " ye wot what is to doone ; 

Distempre yow nought, ye ben my confessour, 

Ye ben the salt of therthe, and savyour; 

For Goddes love, youre pacience ye holde ; 

Tel me your greef." And he anoon him tolde 77c>0 

As ye han herd bifore, ye wot wel what. 

The lady of that hous ay stille sat, 
Til sche had herd what the frere sayde. 
" Ey, Goddes njoodir ! " quod she, " blisful mayde I 
Is ther ought elles? tel me faithfully." 
" Madame," quod he, " how thynke yow therby ? " 
"How that me thynkith ? " quod sche; "so God me 

speede ! 
I say, a cherl hath doon a cherles deede. 
What schuld I say ? God let him never the I 
His syke heed is ful of vanyte. 7790 

I hold him in a maner frenesye." 

" Madame," quod he, " i-wis I schal not lye, 
But I in othir wise maj^ be wreke, 

1 schal defame him over al wher I speke ; 
The false blasfememour, that chargid me 
To parten that wil not departed be, 

To every man y-liche, wath meschaunce ! " 
The lord sat stille, as he were in a traunce, 

And in his hert he rollid up and doun, 

"How had this cherl ymaginacioun 7800 

To schewe such a probleme to the frere? 

Never eft er now herd I of such matiere ; 

I trowe the devel put it in his mynde. 

In arsmetrik schal ther no man fynde 

Biforn this day of such a questioun. 

Who schulde make a demonstracioun, 

That every man schuld have alyk his part 

As of a soun or savour of a fart ? 

O nyce proude cherl, I schrew his face ! 

Jjo, sires," quod the lord, with harde grace, 7810 

7802. eft. Some of the mss. ic.ul erst. 



THE SOMPNOURES TALE. 231 



'* Who ever herde of such a thing er now ? 

To every man y-hke ? tel me how. 

It is impossible, it may not be. 

Ey, nyce cherl, God let him never the I 

The romblyng of a fart, and every soun, 

Nis but of aier reverberacioun, 

And ever it wastith lyte and lyte away ; 

Ther nys no man can deme, by my fay, 

If that it were departed equally. 

What, lo, my cherl, what, lo, how schrewedly 7S20 

Unto my confessour to day he si)ak ! 

I hold him certeinly demoniak. 

Now etith your mete, and let the cherl go play, 

Let him go honge himself on devel way ! " 

Now stood the lordes squier at the bord. 

That carf his mete, and herde word by word 

Of al this thing, which that I of have sayd. 

" My lord," quod he, " be ye nought evel payd, 

I couthe telle for a gowne-cloth 

To yow, sir frere, so that ye be not wroth, 7830 

How that this fart even departed schuld be 

Among your covent, if I comaunded be." 

*' Tel," quod the lord, " and thou schalt have auoou 

A goune-cloth, by God, by seint Johan ! " 

" My lord," quod he, " whan that the wedir is fair, 

Withoute wynd, or pertourbyng of ayr, 

Let bring a large whel into this halle, 

But loke that it have his spokes alle ; 

Twelf spokes hath a cart whel comunly ; 

And bring me twelve freres, wit ye why ? 7840 

For threttene is a covent as I gesse ; 

Your noble confessour, her God him blesse, 

Schal parfourn up the nombre of this covent. 

Thanne schal thay knele doun by oon assent. 

And to every spokes ende in this manere 

7829. gnwne-cloth. In the middle ages, the most common rewards, and 
even those given by the feudal land-holders to their dependants and retain- 
ers, wero articles of apparel, especially tlie gown or outer rube. We inoft 
with constant allusions to this custom in the romances and poetry of furin.T 
days, and they sometimes occur in historical writers. Money was conipaiu- 
tively very scarce in the middle ages ; and as the household retainers wcie 
lodged and fed, clothing was almost the only article they wanted. 

7841. threttene. The regular number of monks or friars in a convent had 
been hxed at twelve, with their superior ; in imitation, it is said, of the num- 
ber of twelve apostles and their divine master. The larger religious ho ;ses 
were considered as consisting of a certain number of convents. Thus 'J'lioin, 
speaking of the abbot of St. Augustine's at Canterbury, says, Aimo Domini 
m. c. xlvi. iste Hugo reparavit antiquum numerum mojiacliorum istius mon- 
asterii, et erant Ix. monachi professi i)rjeter abbatem,/wc est, quinque converv- 
tus in uuivereo. —i^ecewi Sc7-ip(ores, col. 1&07. 



2'62 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Ful sadly lay his nose schal a frere ; 

Your noble confessour ther, God liira save, 

Schal hold his nose upright under the nave. 

Than schal this churl, with bely stif and tought 

As eny tabor, hider ben y-brought ; 7850 

And sette him on the whele of this cart 

Upon the nave, and make him lete a fartp* 

And ye schul seen, up peril of my lif, 

By verray proef that is demonstratif. 

That equally the soun of it wol wende, 

And eek the stynk, unto the spokes ende ; 

Save that this worthy man, your confessour 

(Bycause he is a man of gret honour) 

Schal have the firste fruyt, as resoun is. 

The noble usage of freres is this, V860 

The worthy men of hem first schal be served. 

And certeynly he hath it wel deserved ; 

He hath to day taught us so mochil good, 

With preching in the pulpit tlier he stood. 

That I may vouchesauf, I say for me, 

He hadde the firste smel of fartes thre, 

And so wold al his covent hardily, 

He berith him so fair and holily." 

The lord, the lady, and ech man, sauf the frere, 
Sayde that Jankyn spak in this matiere 7870 

As wel as EucLide, or elles Phtolome. 
Touchand the cherl, thay sayd that subtilte 
And high wyt made him speken as he spak ; 
He nas no fool, ne no demoniak. 
And Jankyn hath i-wonne a new goune ; 
My tale is don, we ben almost at toune. 

THE CLERK OP OXENFORDES PROLOGE. 

" Sir Clerk of Oxenford," our hoste sayde, 
*' Ye ryde as stille and coy as doth a mayde, 
Were newe spoused, sittyng at the bord ; 
This day ne herd I of your mouth a word. 78s i 

I trowe ye study aboute som sophime ; 
But Salomon saith, every thing hath tyme. 
For Goddis sake ! as beth of better cheere, 
It is no tyme for to stody hiere. 
Tel us som mery t^le, by your fay ; 
For what man is entred unto play, 
He moot nedes unto that play assent. 
But prechith not, as freres doon in Lent. 

















-# /iji 






"^^g -: '■ 



The cj-erkes tale. 



THE CLERK uf UAEAFOIWES PROLOGE. 233 



To make us for our olde synnes wepe, 
Ne that thy tale make us for to slepe. 7890 

Tel us som mery thing of a vent tires. 
Youre termes, your colours, and your figures, 
Keep hem in stoor, til so be that ye endite 
^ High style, as whan that men to kynges write. 

Spekith so playn at this tyme, I yow pray, 
That we may understonde what ye say." 

This worthy Clerk benignely answerde ; 
** Sir host," quod he, " I am under your yerde, 
Ye have of us as now the governaunce. 
And therfor wol I do yow obeissaunce, 7900 

Als fer as resoun askith hardily. 
I wil yow telle a tale, which that I 
Lerned at Pad owe of a worthy clerk, 
As proved by his wordes and his werk. 
He is now deed, and nay led in his chest, 
Now God give his soule wel good rest I 
Fraunces Petrark, the laureat poete, 
Highte this clerk, whos rethorique swete 
Enlumynd al Ytail of poetrie. 

As Linian did of philosophie, 7910 

Or lawue, or other art particulere ; 
But deth, that wol not suffre us duellen heere. 
But as it were a twyncling of an ye. 
Hem bothe hath slayn, and alle we schul dye. 
But forth to telle of this worthy man, 
That taughte me this tale, as I bigan, 
I say that he first with heigh stile enditith 
(Er he the body of his tale writith) 
A proheme, in the which descrivith he 
Piemounde, and of Saluces the contra, 7920 

And spekith of Appenyne the hulles hye, 
That ben the boundes of al west Lombardye ; 
And of mount Vesulus in special, 
Wher as the Poo out of a welle smal 
Takith his firste springyng and his sours, 
That est-ward ay encresceth in his cours 
To Emyl-ward, to Ferare. and to Venise, 
To which a long thing M^ere to devyse. 

7912. Hut deth. Petrarch died in 1374. Linian, who was celebrated as a 
lawyer and a philosopher, died about 1378. 

7927. Emyl-ward. "One of the regions of Italy was called .'P^niilia, from 
the Via u±.milia, which crossed it from Piaoentia to Kimini. Pkncentia stood 
upon the Fo. Pitisc. Lex Ant. Kom„ in v. Via ^Emilta. Petrarch's df 
ficription of thi8 purt 1 the P iw lii tie different. He speaks of it as dividing 
the iEuiilian and Flaniiuian r gions from Venice — jiimHiam '.if que Flamin - 
am, yt7utu*7nquc di3crimtnuii$. But our author's j?77ie/ie is plainly taken from 
him." ~TyrwhiC3. 



!34 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And trewely, as to my judgement, 

Me thinketh it a thing: impertinent, 19:^0 

Save that he wold conveyen his matiere ; 

But this is the tale which that ye schuln heere.** 

THE CLERKES TALE. 

Ther is at the west ende of Ytaile, 
Doun at the root of Vesulus the colde, 
A lusty playn, abudaunt of vitaile, 
Wher many a tour and toun thou maist byholde, 
That foundid were in tyme of fadres olde, 
And many anothir delitable sight, 
And Saluces this noble contray hight. 

A marquys whilom duellid in that lond, 7940 

As were his worthy eldris him bifore, 
And obeisaunt ay redy to his bond, 
Were alle his liegis, bothe lesse and niore. 
Thus in delyt he lyveth and hath don yore, 
Biloved and drad, thurgh favour of fortune, 
Bothe of his lordes and of his comune. 

Therwith he was, as to speke of lynage, 
The gentileste born of Lumbardye, 
A fair persone, and strong, and yong of age, 
And ful of honour and of curtesie ; 7950 

Discret y-nough his contre for to gye, 
Savynge in som thing he was to blame ; 
And Wautier was this yonge lordes name. 

I blame him thus, that he considered nought 
In tyme comyng what mighte bityde, 
But on his lust present was al his thought, 
As for to hauke and hunte on every syde ; 
Wei neigh al othir cures let he slyde, 
And eek he nolde (that was the worst of al) 
Wedde no wyf for no thing that might bifal. 7960 

Only that poynt his poeple bar so sore, 
That flokmel on a day to him thay went. 
And oon of hem, that wisest was of lore 
(Or elles that the lord wolde best assent 
That he schuld telle him what his poeple ment, 
Or ellis couthe he schewe wel such matiere), 

The Clerkes Tale. The popular story of Griseldis. which h?,s appeared in 
so great a variety of forms from the days of Petrarch almost to the present 
time, is so well known, that it is hardly necessary to say more than that 
Chau.er translates it closely from Petrarch's Latin romance De obedientia et 
fide ujjoria Mythologia. 



THE CLERKES TALE. 2S5 



He to the uiarquys sayd as ye schuln hiere. 

*• O noble iiiarquys, youre humanite 
Assureth us and giveth us hardynesse, 
As ofte as tynie is of necessite, 7970 

That we to yow may telle oure hevynesse ; 
Acceptith, lord, now of your gentilesse, 
That we with pitous hert unto yow playne, 
And let youre eeris my vols not disdeyne. 

*' And have I nought to doon in this matere 
More than another man hath in this place, 
Yit for as moche as ye, my lord so deere, 
Han alway schewed me favour and grace, 
I dar the better ask of yow a space 

Of audience, to schewen oure request, 7980 

And ye, my lord, to doon right as yow lest. 

"For certes, lord, so wel us likith yow 
And al your werk, and ever han doon, that ^fe 
Ne couthen not ourselve devysen how 
We mighte lyve more in felicite ; 
Save oon thing, lord, if that your wille be, 
That for to be a weddid man yow list. 
Than were your pepel in sovereign hertes rest. 

" Bowith your neck undir that blisful yok 
Of sovereignete, nought of servise, 7990 

Which that men clepe spousail or wedlok ; 
And thenketh, lord, among your thoughtes wise, 
How that our dayes passe in sondry wyse ; 
For though we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ryde, 
Ay fleth the tyme, it wil no man abyde. 

" And though your grene youthe floure as yit, 
In crepith age alway as stille as stoon, 
And deth manasith every age, and smyt 
In ech estat, for ther ascapith noon. 
And as certeyn. as we knowe everychon 8000 

That we schuln deye, as uncerteyn we alle 
Ben of that day that deth schal on us falle. 

*' Acceptith thanne of us the trewe entent. 
That never yit refusid youre best, 
And we wil, lord, if that ye wil assent, 
Chese yow a wyf, in schort tyme atte lest, 
Born of the gentilest and the heighest 
Of al this lond, so that it oughte seme 
Honour to God and yow, as we can deme. 

7972. gentilesse. The Harl. Ms- reads necessitS, a mere repetition of the 
conclusion of 1. 7970. 

7980. The reading of the HarL M^. i^^ /ind audience toaskmaurc reniuft. 



2S6 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



*' Deliver us out of al this busy drede 8010 

And tak a wyf, for hihe Goddes sake. 
For if it so bifel, as God forbede, 
That thurgh your deth your lignage schuld aslake, 
And that a straunge successour schuld take 
Your heritage, O ! wo were us on lyve ! 
Wherfor we pray yow hastily to wyve." 

Her meeke prayer and her pitous chere 
Made the marquys for to han pite. 
•* Ye wolde," quod he. " niyn owne poeple deere, 
To that I never erst thought constreigne ine. 8020 

I me rejoysid of my libert , 
That selden tyme is founde in mariage ; 
Ther I was fre, I mot ben in servage. 

" But natheles I se youre trewe entent, 
And trust upon your witt, and have doon ay ; 
Wherfor of my fre wil I wil assent 
To wedde me, as soon as ever I may. 
But ther as ye have profred me to day 
To chese me a wyf, I wol relese 
That choys, and pray yow of that profre cesse. 8030 

** For God itwoot, tlint childer ofte been 
Unlik her worthy eldris liem bifore ; 
Bounte cometh al of God, nought of the streen 
Of which thay ben engendrid and i-bore. 
I trust in Goddes bounte, and therfore 
My mariage, and myn estat and rest, 
I him bytake, he may doon as him lest. 

" Let me alloon in chesyng of my wif. 
That charge upon my bak I wil endure. 
But I yow pray, and charge upon your lyf, 8040 

That what wyf that I take, ye me assure 
To worschip whil that hir lif may endure. 
In word and werk, bothe heer and every where, 
As sche an emperoures doughter were. 

** And forthermor thus schul ye swer, that ye 
Ageins my chois schuln never grucche ne stryve. 
For sins I schal forgo my liberte 
At your request, as ever mot I thrive, 
Ther as myn hert is set, ther wil I wyve. 
And but ye wil assent in such manere, 8050 

I pray yow spek no more of this matiere." 

With hertly wil thay sworen and assentyn 
To al this thing, ther sayde no wight nay, 
Bysechyng him of grace, er that thay wentyn, 

8024. 56 youre trewe. The Ms. Harl. reads se of yow the trewe,. 



THE CLERKES TALE. '237 



That he wold graunten hem a certeyn day 
Of his spousail, as soone as ever he may ; 
For yit ahvay the peple som what dredde 
Lest that the marquys wolde no wyf wedde. 

He graunted hem a day, such as him lest, 
On which he wolde be weddid sicurly ; 8060 

And sayd he dede al this at her requeste. 
And thay with humble hert ful buxomly, 
Knelyng upon her knees ful reverently, 
Him thanken alle, and thus thay have an ende 
Of her entent, and hom agein they wende. 

And herupon he to his offlceris 
Comaundith for the feste to purveye. , 
And to his prive knightes and squyeres 
Such charge gaf as him list on hem leye ; 
And thay to his comaundement obeye, 8070 

And ech of hem doth his diligence 
To doon unto the feste reverence. 

Pars secunda. 

Nought fer fro thilke palys honurable, 
Wher as this marquys schop his mariage, 
Ther stood a throp, of sighte delitable, 
In Avhicli that pore folk of that vilage 
Hadden her bestes and her herburgage, 
And after her labour took her sustienaunce. 
After the erthe gaf hem abundaunce. 

Among this pore folk ther duelt a man, 8080 

Which that was holden porest of hem alle; 
But heighe God som tyme sende can 
His grace unto a litel oxe stalle. 
Janicula men of that throop him calle. 
A doughter had he, fair y-nough to sight. 
And (irisildes this yonge mayden hight. 

But for to speke of hir vertuous beaute, 
Than was sclie oon the fayrest under Sonne ; 
For porely i-fostred up was sche, 

No licorous lust was in hir body ronne j 8090 

Wei ofter of the welle than of the tonne 
Sche dronk, and for sche wolde vertu please, 
Sche knew wel labour, but noon ydel ease. 

But though this mayden tender were of age, 
Yet in the brest of hir virginite 

S088. mayden. The Hurl. Ms reads doughter, which probably is only an 
aoci<lontal repetition of tlie word in tLe preceding line. 



238 THE GANTERBURY TALES. 



Ther was enclosed rype and sad corrage ; 

And in gret reverence and charite 

Hir olde pore fader fostred sche ; 

A fewe scheep spynnyng on the feld sche kept, 

Sche nold not ben ydel til sche slept. 8100 

And whan sche com horn sche wolde brynge 
Wortis and other herbis tymes ofte, 
The which sche schred and seth for hir lyvyng, 
And made hir bed ful hard, and no thing softe. 
And ay sche kept hir fadres lif on lofte, 
With every obeissance and diligence, 
That child may do to fadres reverence. 

Upon Grisildes, the pore creature, 
Ful ofte sithes this marquys set his ye, 
As he on huntyng rood pera venture. 8110 

And whan it fel he mighte hir espye, 
He not with wantoun lokyng of folye 
Uis eyghen cast upon hir, but in sad wyse 
Upon hir cheer he wold him oft avise, 

Comendj'ng in his hert hir wommanhede, 
And eek hir vertu, passyng any other wight 
Of so yong age, as wel in cheer as dede. 
For though the poeple have no gret insight 
In vertu, her considereth aright 

Hir bounte, and desposed that he wolde 8120 

Wedde hir oonly, if ever he wedde scholde. 

The day of weddyng cam, but no wight can 
Telle what womman it schulde be"; 
For which mervayle wondrith many a man. 
And say den, whan thay were in privete, 
. *' Wol nought our lord yit leve his vanite ? * 
Wol he not wedde ? alias, alias the while ! 
Why wol he thus himself and us bigyle ? " 

But natheless this marquys hath doon make 
Of gemmes, set in gold and in asure, 8130 

Broches and rynges, for Grisildes sake, 
And of hir clothing took he the mesure, 
By a mayde y-lik to hir of stature, 
And eek of other ornamentes alle 
That unto such a weddyng schulde falle. 

The tyme of undern of the same day 
Approchith, that this weddyng schulde be, 
And al the palys put was in array, 
Bothe halle and chambur, y-lik here degre, 
Houses of office stuffid with plente ; 8140 

8139. y-lik here degri. Other ifss. have ecTie in his degri, which is perhaps 
the better reading. 



THE CLERKES TALE. 239 



Ther maystow se of deyntevous vitayle, 
That may be founde, as fer as lastith Itaile. 

This real marquys, richely arrayd 
Lordes and ladyes in his coiiipaignye. 
The which unto the feste were prayed, 
And of his retenu the bachelerie, 
With many a soun of sondry melodye, 
Unto the vilag:e, of which I tolde, 
In this array the right way han thay holde. 

Grysild of this (God wot) ful innocent, 8150 

That for hir schapen was al this array, 
To fecche water at a welle is went. 
And Cometh hom as soone as sche may, 
For wel sche had herd say, that iike day 
The marquys schulde wedde, and, if sche miglit, 
Sche wold have seyen somvvhat of that sight. 

Sche sayd, " I wol with other maydenes stonde, 
That ben my felawes, in o\ire dore, and see 
The marquysesse, and therfore wol I fonde 
To don at hom, as soone as it may be, 81G0 

The labour which that longeth unto me. 
And thanne may I at leysir hir byholde, 
And sche the way into the castel holde." 

And as sche wold over the threisshfold goon, 
The marquys cam and gan hir for to calle. 
And sche set doun her water-pot anoon 
Bisides the threischfold of this oxe stalle, 
And doun upon hir knees sche gan falle, 
And with sad coiintenaunce knelith stille, 
Til sche had herd Avhat was the lordes wille. 8170 

This thoughtful marquys spak unto this mayd 
Ful soberly, and sayd in this manere : 
" Wher is your fader, Grisildes ? " he sayde. 
And sche with reverence in humble cheere 
Answerd, " Lord, he is al redy heere." 
And in sche goth withouten lenger let, 
And to the marquys sche hir fader fet. 

He by the hond than takith this olde man, 
And sayde thus, whan he him had on syde : 
" Janicula, I neither may ne can 81BU 

Lenger the plesauns of myn herte hyde ; 
If that ye vouchesauf, what so bytyde, 
Thy doughter wil I take er that I wende 
As for my wyf, unto hir lyves ende. 

*' Thow lovest nic, I wot it wel certeyn, 
And art my faithful leige-man i-bore, 

8143. richely. The reading of the Ilarl INIs. is really. 



240 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And al that likitheme, I dar wel sayn, 

It likith the, and specially therfore 

Tel me that poynt, as ye have herd bifore, 

If that thou wolt unto that purpos drawe, 8190 

To take me as for thy sone-in-lawe." 

The sodeyn caas the man astoneyd tho, 
That reed he wax, abaisoht. and al quakyng 
He stood, unnethe sayd he wordes mo, 
But oonly this : " Lord," quod he, " my willyng 
Is as ye wol, agenst youre likyng 
I wol no thing, ye be my lord so deere ; 
Right as yow list, governith this matiere." 

" Yit wol I," quod this markys softely, 
*' That in thy chambre, I and thou and sche 8200 

Have a collacioun, and wostow why ? 
For I wol aske if it hir wille be 
To be my wyf, and reule hir after me ; 
And al this schal be doon in thy presence, 
1 wol nought speke out of thyn audience." 

And in the chamber, whil thay were aboute 
The tretys, which as ye schul after hiere, 
The poeple cam unto the hous withoute, 
And wondrid hem, in how honest manere 
And tendurly scho kept hir fader deere ; 8210 

But outerly Grisildes wonder might, 
For never erst ne saugh sche such a sight. 

JS"© wonder is though that sche were astoned, 
To seen so gret a gest come into that place ; 
Sche never was to suche gestes woned, 
For which sche loked with ful pale face. 
But schortly this matiere forth to cliace, 
These arn the wordes that the marquys sayde 
To this benigne, verray, faithful mayde. 

*' Grisyld," he sayde, " ye schul wel understonde, 
It liketh to your fader and to me, 8321 

That I yow wedde, and eek it may so stonde, 
As I suppose ye wil that it so be ; 
But these demaundes aske I first," quod he, 
" That sith it schal be doon in hasty wyse, 
Wol ye assent, or elles yow avyse ? 

" I say this, be ye redy with good hert 
To al my lust, and that I frely may 
As me best liste do yow laughe or smert, 
And never ye to gruch it, night ne day ; 
And eek whan I say ye, ye say not nay, 
Neyther by word, ne frownyng contenaunce? 
Swer tliis, and here swer I oure alliaunce," 



THE CLERKES TALE. 241 

Wondryng upon this word, quakyng for drede, 
Sche sayde : "Lord, undigne and unworthy 
I am, to thilk honour that ye me bede ; 
But as ye wil your self, right so w^ol I ; 
And here I swere, that never wityngly 
In werk, ne thought, I nyl yow disobeye 
For to tlie deed, though me were loth to deye." 8240 

"This is y-nough, Grisilde myn," quod he. 
And forth goth he Avith a ful sobre chere, 
Out at the dore, and after that cam sche, 
And to the pepul he sayd in this manere ; 
" This is my wyf," quod he, " that stondith heere. 
Ilonoureth hir, and loveth hir, I yow pray, 
Wiio so me loveth ; ther is no more to say." 

And for that no thing of hir olde gere 
S;'i>e schulde brynge unto his hous, he bad 
Til at wommen schuld despoilen hir right there, 8250 

Of which these ladyes w^ere nought ful glad 
To handle hir clothes wherin sche was clad ; 
But natheles this mayde bright of hew 
Fro foot to heed that schredde han al newe. 

Ilir heeres han thay kempt, that lay untressed 
Ful rudely, and with hir fyngres smale 
A coroun on hir heel thay han i-dressed. 
And set hir ful of nowches gret and smale. 
Of hir array what schuld I make a tale? 
Unnethe the poeple her knew for hir fairnesse. 8260 

Whan sche translated was in such richesse. 

This niarquis hath hir spoused with a ryng 
Brought for the same cause, and than hir sette 
Upon an hors snow-whyt, and wel amblyng, 
And to his palys, er he lenger lette, 
(With joyful poeple, that hir ladde and mette) 
Conveyed hire, and thus the day thay spende 
In revel, til the Sonne gan descende. 

And schortly forth this tale for to chace, 
1 say, that to this newe marquisesse 8270 

God hath such favour sent hir of his grace, 
Tliat it ne semyd not by liklynesse 
That sche was born and fed in rudenesse, 
As in a cote, or in an oxe stalle, 
But norischt in an emperoures halle. 

To every wight sche waxen is so deere, 
And worschipful, that folk ther sche was born, 
And from hir burthe knew hir yer by yere, 
Unneth trowed thay, but dorst han sworn, 
That to Janicle of which 1 spak biforn 8280 

Sche doughter were, for as bv conjectuie 

'15 



242 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Hem thought sche was another creature. 

For though that ever vertuous was sche, 
Sche was encresed in such excellence 
Of thewes goode, i-set in high bounte, 
And so discret, and fair of eloquence, 
So benigne, ant. so digne of reverence, 
And couthe so the poeples hert embrace, 
That ech hir loveth that lokith in hir face. 

Nought oonly of Saluce in the toun S290 

Publissched was the bounte of hir name. 
But eek byside in many a regioun, 
If oon sayd wel, another sayd the same. 
So sprad of hire heigh bounte the fame, 
That men and wommen, as wel yong as olde, 
Gon to Saluce upon hir to byholde. 

Thus Walter louly, nay but really, 
Weddid with fortunat honestete, 
In Goddes pees lyveth ful esily 

At home, and outward grace y-nough hath he ; 8301 
And for he saugh that under low degre 
Was ofte vertu y-hid, the poeple him helde 
A prudent man, and that is seen ful selde. 

Nought oonly this Grisildes thurgh hir witte 
Couthe al the feet of wifly homlynesse. 
But eek whan that the tyme required it, 
The comun profyt couthe sche redresse ; 
Ther nas discord, rancour, ne hevynesse 
In al that lond, that sche ne couthe appese, 
And wisly bryng hem alle in rest and ese. 8310 

Though that hir housbond absent were anoon, 
If gentilmen, or other of hir contre, 
Were wroth, sche wolde brynge hem at oon, 
So wyse and rype wordes hadde sche. 
And juggement of so gret equite. 
That sche from heven sent was, as men wende, 
Poeple to save, and every wrong to amende. 

Nought longe tyme after that this Grisilde 
Was wedded, sche a doughter hath i-bore ; 
Al had hir lever han had a knave childo, 8320 

Glad was this marquis and the folk therfore, 
For though a mayden child come al byfore, 
Sche may unto a knave child atteigne 
By liklihed, sith sche nys not bareigne. 

8305. homlynesse. The Harl. I\Is. reads humblessc; but the context sho'w^s 
that the rending adopted in the text is the right one. She not only knew how 
to attend to the domestic affairs of her lord^s household (wifly homlynesse), 
but when time or occasion required it, she could redress the common profit 
of his subjects. 



TEE CLERK KS TALE. 243 



Incipit tertia pars, 

Ther fel, as fallith many times mo, 
Whan that this child hath souked but a throw©, 
This marquys in his herte longith so 
Tempte his wyf, hir sadnesse for to knowe, 
That he ne might out of his herte throwe 
This mervaylous desir his wyf tassaye ; 8330 

Nedeles, God wot, he thought hir to affraye. 

He had assayed hir y-nough bifore, 
And fond hir ever good, what needith it 
Hire to tempte, and alway more and more ? 
Though som men prayse it for a subtil wit, 
But as for me, I say that evel it sit 
Tassay a wyf whan that it is no neede, 
And putte hir in anguysch and in dreede. 

For which this marquis wrought in this manere 
He com aloone a-night ther as sohe lay -^'HO 

With Sterne face, and with ful trouble cheere. 
And sayde thus, ** Grisild," quod he, " that day 
That I yow took out of your pore array, 
And putte yow in estat of heigh noblesse. 
Yet have not that forgeten, as I gesse. 

" I say, Grisild, this present dignite 
In which that I have put yow, as I trowe, 
Makith yow not forgetful for to be 
That I yow took in pore estat ful lowe, 
For eny wele ye moot your selve knowe. 8350 

Tak heed of every word that I yow say, 
Ther is no wight that herith it but we tway. 

" Ye wot your self how that ye comen heere 
Into this hous, it is nought long ago ; 
And though to me that ye be leef and deere, 
Unto my gentils ye be no thing so. 
Thay seyn, to hem it is gret schame and wo 
For to ben subject and ben in servage 
To the, that born art of a smal village. 

** And namely syn thy doughter was i-bore, 8360 
These wordes han thay spoken douteles. 
But I desire, as I have doon byfore. 
To lyve my lif with hem in rest and pees ; 
1 may not in this caas be reccheles ; 
I moot do with thy doughter for the best, 
Not as I wolde, but as my pepul lest, 

** And yit, God wot, this is ful loth to me. 

R331. Nedeles. The Harl. Ms. reads, Now, God wot; but the reauing ol 
Mic ■ a,i;sdowne Ms., here adopted, seems preferable. 



244 TEL CANTERBURY TALES. 



But natheles withoute youre witynge 

Wol I not doon ; but this wol I," quod he, 

' ' That ye to me assent as in this thing. 8370 

Schew now your paciens in your wirching, 

That thou me hightest and swor in yon village, 

That day that maked was oure mariage." 

Whan sche had herd al this sche nought ameevyd 
Neyther in word, in cheer, or countenaunce, 
(For, as it semed, sche was nought agree ved); 
Sche sayde, "' Lord, al lith in your plesaunce; 
My child and I, with hertly obeisaunce, 
Ben youres al, and ye may save or spille 
Your oughne thing ; werkith after your wille. 8380 

" Ther may no thing, so God my soule save, 
Liken to yow, that may displesen me ; 
Ne I desire no thing for to have, 
Ne drede for to lese, save oonly ye. 
This wil is in myn hert, and ay schal be, 
No length of tyme or deth may this deface, 
Ne chaunge my corrage to other place." 

Glad was this marquis for hir answeryng, 
But yit he feyned as he were not so. 
Al dreery was his cheer and his lokyng, 8390 

Whan that he schold out of the chambre go. 
Soon after this, a forlong way or tuo, 
He prively hath told al his entent 
Unto a man, and unto his wyf him sent. 

A maner sergeant was this prive man, 
The which that faithful oft he founden hadde 
In thinges grete, and eek such folk wel can 
Don execucioun in thinges badde ; 
The lord knew wel that he him loved and dradde. 
And whan this sergeant wist his lordes wille, 8400 

Into the chamber he stalked him ful stille. 

"Madame," he sayd, " ye most forgive it me, 
Though I do thing to which I am constreynit ; 
Ye ben so wys, that ful wel knowe ye, 
That lordes hestes mow not ben i-feynit. 
They mowe wel be biwayht or compleynit j 
But men moot neede unto her lust obeye. 
And so wol I, there is no more to seye. 

" This child I am comaundid for to take." 
And spak no more, but out the child he hent 8410 

Dispitously, and gan a chiere make. 
As though he wold han slayn it, er he went. 
Grisild moot al suffer and al consent ; 
And as a lamb sche sitteth meeke and stille 



TlJl': CANTERBURY TALES. 045 



And let this cruel sergeant doon his wille. 

Suspecious was the defame of this luan, 
Suspect his face, suspect his word also, 
Suspect the tyme in which he this bigan. 
Alias ! hir doughter, that sche loved so, 
S.-he wend he wold han slayen it right tho, 8420 

But natheles sche neyther weep ne siked, 
Conformyng hir to that the marquis liked. 

But atte last speke sche bigan, 
And mekely sche to the sergeant preyde, 
So as he was a worthy gentilman, 
That sche most kisse hir child, er that it deyde. 
And on hir ^-rm this litel child sche leyde, 
With ful sad face, and gan the child to blesse, 
And lullyd it, and after gan it kesse. 

And thus sche sayd in hir benigne vois : 8430 

" Farwel, my child, I schal the never see, 
But sith I the have marked withe the croys, 
Of thilke fader blessed mot thou be, 
That for us deyde upon a cros of tre ; 
Thy soule, litel child, I him by take, 
For this night schaltow deyen for my sake." 

I trowe that to a no rice in this caas 
It had ben hard this rewthe for to see ; 
Wei might a moder than have cryed alias, 
But natheles so sad stedefast was sche, 8440 

That sche endured al adversite. 
And to the sergeant mekely sche sayde, 
** Have her agayn your litel yonge mayde. 

*' Goth now," quod sche, " and doth my lordes heste. 
But o thing wil 1 pray yow of your grace, 
That but my lord forbade yow atte leste, 
Burieth this litel body in som place, 
That bestes ne no briddes it to-race." 
But he no word wil to the purpos say, 
But took the child and went upon his way. 8450 

This sergeant com unto this lord agayn, 
And of Grisildes wordes and hir clieere 
He tolde poynt for poynt, in schort and playn, 
And him presentith with his doughter deere. 
Som what this lord hath rewthe in his manere, 
But natheles his purpos huld he stille. 
As lordes doon, whan thay woln have her wille ; 

8416. Suspecious. The words of Petrarch are : " Suspecta vira fama, aus- 
ptecta faoies, suspecta hora, suspecta erat oratio, qiiibus et si clare occismi 
iri dulce lili'am iiitelligeret." 

i-i2l. arm. Other mss. read barme, the bosom. 



24C TUT. CANTERBURY TALES. 



And bad th6 sergeaunt that he prively 
Scholde this childe softe wynde and wrappe, 
With alle circumstaunces tendurly, 8460 

And cary it in a cofre, or in his lappe ; 
Upon peyne his heed of for to swappe 
That no man schulde knowe of this entent, 
Ne whens he com, ne whider that he went ; 

But at Boloygne, to his suster deere, 
That thilke tyme of Panik was countesse, 
He schuld it take, and schewe hir this matiere 
Byseching hir to doon hir busynesse 
This child to fostre in alle gentilesse, 
And whos child that it was he bad hir hyde 8470 

From every wight, for ought that mighte bytyde. 

The sergeant goth, and hath fulfild this thing. 
But to this marquys now retourne we ; 
For now goth he f ul fast ymaginyng, 
If by his wyves cher he mighte se, 
Or by hir word apparceyve, that sche 
Were chaunged, but he hir never couthe fynde. 
But ever in oon y-like sad and kynde. 

As glad, as humble, as busy in servise 
And eek in love, as sche was wont to be, 8480 

Was sche to him, in every maner wyse ; 
Ne of hir doughter nought o word spak sche ; 
Non accident for noon adversite 
Was seyn in hir, ne never hir doughter name 
Ne nempnyd sche, in ernest ne in game. 

Tnoipit quarto, pars. 

In this estaat ther i^assed ben foure yer 
Er sche with childe was, but, as God wolde, 
A knave child sche bar by this Waltier, 
Ful gracious, and fair for to biholde ; 
And whan that folk it to his fader tolde, 8490 

Nought oonly he, but al his contre, merye 
Was for this child, and God thay thank and herie. 

Whan it was tuo yer old, and fro the brest 
Departed fro his noris, upon a day 
This markys caughte yit another lest 
To tempt his wif yit after, if he may. 
O I needles was sche tempted in assay. 

8466. of Panik. " Quieto omni quanta possit diligentia Bononiara deferret 
ad sororem suam, quae illic comiti de Panico nujita erat, eamque sibi traderet 
alendam materno studio charis moribus instruendam," &c. Tyrwliitt, rather 
ba-tily, changed the name to Pavie in his text ; and, although he corrected 
himself in the notes which were printed after the text, the error has been 
retained in subseaueut editions. 



THE GLERKES TALE. 247 



Bat weddid men ne knowen no mesure, 
Whan that thay fynde a pacient creature. 

" Wyf," quod this marquys, " ye han herd er this 
My peple sekly berith oure mariage, 8501 

And namly syn my sone y-boren is, 
Now is it wors than ever in al our age ; 
The murmur sleth myn hert and my corrage, 
For to myn eeris cometh the vois so smerte, 
That it wel neigh destroyed hath mjm herte. 

" Now say thay thus, Whan Wauter is agoon, 
Than schal the blood of Janiclasuccede, 
And ben our lord, for other have we noon. 
Suche wordes saith my poeple, out of drede. 8510 

Wel ought I of such murmur taken heede 
For certeynly I drede such sentence, 
Though thay not pleynly speke in my audience. 

'* I wolde lyve in pees, if that I might ; 
Wherfor I am disposid outrely. 
As I his suster servede by night, 
Right so thynk I to serve him prively. 
This warn I you, that ye not sodeinly 
Out of your self for no thing schuld outraye, 
Beth pacient, and therof I yow pray." 8520 

" I have," quod sche, " sayd thus and ever schal, 
] wol no thing, ne nil no thing certayn. 
But as yow list ; nought greveth me at al, 
Though that my doughter and my sone be slayn 
At your comaundement ; this is to sayne, 
I have not had no part of children twayne, 
But first syknes, and after wo and payne. 

** Ye ben oure lord, doth with your owne thing 
Right as yow list, axith no red of me ; 
For as I left at hom al my clothing 8530 

Whan I first com to yow, right so," quod sche, 
*' Left I my wille and my liberte, 
And took your clothing ; wherfor I yow preye, 
Doth youre plesaunce, I wil youre lust obeye. 

" And certes, if I hadde prescience 

our wil to knowe, er ye youre lust me tolde, 
I wold it doon withoute negligence. 
But now I wot your lust, and what ye wolde, 
Al your plesaunce ferm and stable I holde, 
For wist I that my deth wold doon yow ease, 8540 

Right gladly wold I deye, yow to please. 

" Deth may make no comparisoun 
j'nto your love." And whan this marquys say 
The Constance of his wyf, he cast adoun 



248 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

His eyghen tuo, and wondrith that sche may 
In pacience suffre as this array ; 
And forth he goth with drery countenaunce, 
But to his hert it was ful gret plesaunce. 

This ugly sergeaunt in the same wise 
That he hir doughter fette, right so he, 8550 

Or worse, if men worse can devyse, 
Hath hent hir sone, that ful was of beaute. 
And ever in oon so pacient was sche, 
That sche no cheere made of hevynesse. 
But kist hir sone, amd after gan him blesse. 

Save this sche prayed him, if that he mighte, 
Hir litel sone he w^old in eorthe grave, 
His tendre lymes, delicate to sight, 
From foules and from bestes him to save. 
But sche noon answer of him mighte have. 8560 

He went his way, as him no thing ne rought, 
But to Boloyne he tenderly it brought. 

This marquis wondreth ever the lenger the moro 
Upon hir pacience, and if that he 
!Ne hadde sothly knowen therbifore, 
That parfytly hir children loved sche, 
He wold have wend that of som subtilte 
And of malice, or of cruel corrage, 
That sche had suffred this with sad visage. 

But wel he knew, that, next himself, certayn 
Sche loved hir children best in every wise. 8571 

But now of wommen wold I aske fayn, 
If these assayes mighten not sufficfc ? 
What couthe a stourdy housebonde more devyse 
To prove hir wyfhode and heir stedefastnesse. 
And he contynuyng ever in stourdynesse ? 

But ther ben folk of such condicioun, 
That, whan thay have a certeyn purpos take, 
Thay can nought stynt of her entencioun. 
But, right as thay were bounden to a stake, 8580 

Thay wil not of her firste purpos slake ; 
Right so this marquys fullich hath purposed 
To tempt his wyf, as he was first disposed. 

He wayteth, if by word or countenaunce 
That sche to him was chaunged of corage. 
But never couthe he fynde variaunce, 
Sche was ay oon in hert and in visage ; 
And ay the ferther that sche was in age 
The more trewe, if that were possible, 
Sche was to him, and more penybie. 8590 

For which it semyd this, that of hem tuo 



TBE CLERKES TAL&. ^iv 



Ther nas but oo wil ; for as Walter lest, 
The same plesaunce was liir lust also ; 
And, God be thanked, al fel for the best. 
Sche schewed wel, for no worldly unrest 
A wyf. as of hir self, no thing ne scholde 
Wylne in effect, but as hir housbond wolde. 

The sclaunder of Walter ofte and wydo spradde, 
That of a cruel hert he wikkedly. 

For he a pore womman M^eddid hadde, btJOO 

Hath morthrid bothe his children prively ; 
Such murmur was among hem comunly. 
No wonder is ; for to the peples eere 
Ther com no word, but that thay mortherid were. 

For which, wher as his peple tiierbyfore 
Had loved him wel, the sclaunder of his diflame 
Made hem that thay him hatede therfore ; 
To ben a mordrer is an hateful name. 
But natheles, for ernest or for game, 
He of his cruel jDurpos nolde stente, S610 

To tempt his wyf was set al his entente. 

Whan that his doughter twelf yer was of age, 
He to the court of Rome, in suche wise 
Enformed of his wille, sent his message, 
Comaundyng hem, such buUes to devyse, 
As to his cruel purpos may suffise, 
How that the pope, as for his peples reste, 
Bad him to wedde another, if him leste. 

I say, he bad, thay schulde countrefete 
The popes bulles, makyng mencioun 8620 

That he hath leve his firste wyf to lete, 
As by the popes disijensacioun, 
To stynte rancour and discencioun 
Bitwix his peple and him ; thus sayd the bulla, 
The which thay han publisshid atte fuUe. 

The rude poepel, as it no wonder is, 
Wende ful wel that it had be right so. 
But whan these tydynges come to Grisildis, 
I deeme that hir herte was ful wo ; 

But sche y-like sad for evermo 8630 

Disposid was, this humble creature 
Thadversite of fortun al tendure ; 

Abydyng ever his lust and his iDlesaunce, 
To whom that sche was give, hert and al, 
As to hir verray worldly suffisaunce. 
But schortly if I this story telle schal, 
This marquys writeu hath in special 
A letter, in which he schewith his entent, 



250 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And secrely he to Boloyne it sent. 

To therl of Panyk, which that hadde tho 8640 

Weddid his suster, prayd he specially 
To brynge horn agein his children tuo 
In honurable estaat al openly. 
But oon thing he him prayde outerly, 
That he to no wight, though men wold enquere, 
Schuld not tellen whos children thay were, 

But say the mayde schuld i- wedded be 
Unto the markys of Saluce anoon. 
And as this eorl was prayd, so dede he, 
For at day set he on his way is goon 8650 

Toward Saluce, and lordes many oon 
In riche array, this mayden for to guyde, 
Her yonge brother rydyng by hir syde. 

Arrayed was toward hir mariage 
This freisshe may al ful of gemmes clere ; 
Hir brother, which that seven yer was of age, 
Arrayed eek ful freissh in his manere ; 
And thus in gret noblesse and with glad chere 
Toward Saluces schapyng her joarnay. 
Fro day to day thay ryden in her way. 8660 

Incipit pars quinta. 

Among al this, after his wikked usage, 
This marquis yit his wif to tempte more 
To the uttrest proef of hir corrage, 
Fully to han experiens and lore, 
If that sche were as stedefast as byfore, 
He on a day in open audience 
Ful boystrously hath sayd hir this sentence : 

*' Certes, Grisildes, I had y-nough plesaunce 
To have yow to my wif, for your goodnesse. 
And for youre trouthe, and for your obeissaunce, 8670 
Nought for your lignage, ne for your richesse ; 
But now know I in verray sothfastnesse. 
That in gret lordschip, if I wel avyse, 
Ther is gret servitude in sondry wyse ; 

I may not do, as every ploughman may ; 
My poeple me constreignith for to take 
Another wyf , and cryen day by day ; 
And eek the popes rancour for to slake 
Consentith it, that dar I undertake ; 

8674. servitude. " Nunc quoiiiam, ut video, magna omnis fortuna servitua 
magna est, non milii licet quod ciiilibet licerei agri. olfr," ic. The HarLMa. 
reads 6crvii<e, whicli is incoubisteut with the luotix. 



THE CLERKES TALE. 251 



And trewely, thus moche I wol yow Stay, 8680 

My newe wif is comyng by the way. 

" Be strong of hert, and voyde anoon hir place, 
And thilke dower that ye broughten me 
Tak it agayn, I graunt it of my grace. 
Retourneth to your fadres hous," quod he, 
** No man may alway have prosper! te. 
With even hert I rede yow endure 
The strok of fortune or of adventure." 

And sche agayn answerd in pacience : 
"My lord," quod sche, " I wot, and wist alway, 8690 
How that betwixe your magnificence 
And my poverte no wight can ne may 
Make comparisoun, it is no nay ; 
I ne held me never digne in no manere 
To ben your wyf, ne yit your chamberere. 

*' And in this hous, ther ye me lady made, 
(The highe God take I for my witnesse, 
And al so wisly he my soule glade) 
I never huld me lady ne maistresse, 
But humble servaunt to your worthinesse, 3700 

And ever schal, whil that my lyf may dure, 
Aboven every worldly creature. 

" That ye so longe of your benignite 
Han holden me in honour and nobleye, 
Wher as I was not worthy for to be. 
That thonk I God and yow to whom I preye 
For-yeld it yow, ther is no more to seye. 
Unto my fader gladly wil I wende. 
And with him duelle unto' my lyves ende. 

" Ther I was fostred as a child ful smal, 8710 

Til I be deed my lyf ther wil I lede, 
A widow clene in body, hert, and al ; 
For sith I gaf to yow my maydenhede, 
And am your trewe wyf, it is no drede, 
God schilde such a lordes wyf to take 
Another man to housbond or to make. 

"And of your newe wif, God of his grace 
So graunte yow wele and prosperite ; 
For I wol gladly yelden hir my place. 
In which that I was blisful wont to be. 8720 

For sith it liketh yow, my lord," quod sche, 
" That whilom were al Miyn hertes reste, 
That I schal gon, I wil go whan yow leste. 

" But ther as ye profre me such dowayre 
As I ferst brought, it is wel in my mynde, 
It were my wrecchid clothes, no thing laire. 



2h*2 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

The whiche to me were hard now for to fynde. 

goode Grod ! how gentil and how kynde 
Ye semed by your speche and your visage, 

That day that maked was our mariage ! 8730 

"But soth is sayd, algate I fynd it trewe, 
For in effect it proved is on me. 
Love is nought old as whan that it is newe. 
But certes, lord, for noon adversite 
To deyen in the caas, it schal not be 
That ever in word or werk I schal repente 
That I yow gaf myn hert in hoi entente. 

'* My lord, ye wot thf^t in my fadres place 
Ye dede me strippe out of my pore wede, 
And richely me cladden of your grace ; 87 t 

To yow brought I nought elles out of drede, 
But faith, and nakednesse, and maydenhede ; 
And her agayn my clothyng I restore, 
And eek my weddj^ng ryng for evermore. 

" The romenant*of your jewels redy be 
Within your chambur dore dar I saufly sayn. 
Naked out of my fadres hous," quod sche, 
" I com, and naked moot I torne agayn. 
Al your pleisauns wold I fulfille fayn ; 
But yit I hope it be not youre entent, 3" 

That I smocles out of your paleys went. 

Ye couthe not doon so dishonest a thing, 
That thilke wombe, in which your children leye. 
Schulde byforn the poeple, in my walkyng, 
Be seye al bare : wherfor, I yow pray 
Let me not lik a worm go by the way ; 
Remembre yow, myn oughne lord so doere, 

1 was your wyf, though 1 unworthy were. 

" Wherfor, in guerdoun of my maydenhede, 
. Which that I brought and nought agayn I here - 
As vouchethsauf to geve me to my meede 
But such a smok as I was wont to were, 
That I therwith may wrye the wombe of liere 
That was your wif ; and here take I my leve 
Of yow, myn oughne lord, lest I yow greve." 

''The smok," quod he, " that thou hast on thy ou i 
Let it be stille, and ber it forth with the." 
But wel unnethes thilke word he spak. 
But went his way for routhe and for pite. 
Byforn the folk hirselven strippith sche, 87*' 

8742. nakednfsse. Tbe Harl, Ms. reads, erroneously, mekenes J hf 
words if Petrarch are, " nequ© omnino alia mihl doe fult, quam fiddS ai 
nuditas.' 



\ 



THE CLERKES TAL^. 253 



And in hir sniok, with heed and foot al bare, 
Toward hir fader house forth is sclie fare. 

The folk hir folwen wepyng in hir weye, 
And fortune ay thay cursen as thay goon ; 
But sclie fro wepyng kept hir eyen dreye, 
Ne in this tyme word ne spak sche noon. 
Hir fader, that this tyding' herd anoon, 
Cursed the day and tynie, that nature 
Sclioop him to ben a lyves creature. 

For out of doute this olde pore man 8780 

Was ever in suspect of hir mariage ; 
For ever he deemed, sith that it bigan, 
That whan the lord fulfilled had his corrage, 
Him wolde think that it were disparage 
To his estate, so lowe for to light, 
And voyden hire as sone as ever he might. 

Agayns his doughter hastily goth lie ; 
For he by noyse of folk knew hir comyng ; 
And with hir olde cote, as it might be, 
He covered hir ful sorwfully wepynge ; 8790 

But on hir body might he it nought bringe, 
For rude was the cloth, and mor of age 
By dayes fele than at hir mariage. 

Thus with hir fader for a certeyn space 
Dwellith this flour of wifly pacience. 
That neyther by her wordes ne by hir face, 
Byforn the folk, nor eek in her absence, 
Ne sche wed sche that hir was doon offence, 
Ne of hir highe astaat no remembraunce 
Ne hadde sche, as by hir countenaunce. 8800 

No wonder is, for in hir gret estate 
Hir gost was ever in playn humilite ; 
Ne tender mouth, noon herte dehcate, 
Ne pompe, ne semblant of realte ; 
But ful of pacient benignite, 
Discrete, and prideles, ay honurable, 
And to hir housbond ever meke and stable. 

Men si^eke of Job, and most for his humbiesse, 
As clerkes, whan hem lust, can wel endite, 
Namely of men, but as in sothfastnesse, 8810 

Though clerkes prayse wommen but a lite, 
Ther can no man in humblesse him acquyte 
As wommen can, no can be half so trewe i 

As woiumeii ben, but it be faile of me we* 



264 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Pars sexta. 

Fro Boloyne is this erl of Panik y-come, 
Of which the fame up-sprong to more and lasse, 
And to the poeplas eeres alle and some 
Was couth eek, that a newe marquisesse 
He with him brought, in such pomp and richesse, 
That never was ther seyn with mannes ye 8820 

So noble array in al West Lombardye. 

The marquys, which that sclioop and knew al this, 
Er that this erl was come, sent his message 
For thilk cely pore Grisildis ; 
And sche with humble hert and glad visage, 
Not with no swollen hert in hir corrage, 
Cam at his best, and on hir knees hir sette, 
And reverently and wyfly sche him grette. 

•' Grisild," quod he, '* my wil is outrely, 
This may den, that schal weddid be to me, 8830 

Receyved be to morwe as really 
As it possible is in myn hous to be 3 
And eek that every wight in his degre 
Have his estaat in sittyng and servyse, 
In high plesaunce, as I can devyse. 

*' I have no womman suffisant certeyne 
The chambres for tarray in ordinance 
After my lust, and therfor wold I feyne. 
That thin were al such maner governaunce ; 
Thow knowest eek of al my plesaunce ; 8840 

Though thyn array be badde, and ille byseye, 
Do thou thy dever atte leste weye." 

"Nought oonly, lord, that I am glad," quod sche, 
** To don your lust, but I desire also 
Yow for to serve and plese in my degre, 
Withoute feyntyng, and schal evermo ; 
Ne never for no wele, ne for no wo, 
Ne schal the gost withinne myn herte stente 
To love yow best wath al my trewe entent." 

And with that word sche gan the hous to dight, 
And tables for to sette, and beddes make, 8851 

And peyned hir to doon al that sche might. 
Preying the chamberers for Goddes sake 
To hasten hem, and faste swepe and schake, 

Pars sexta. In the Harl. Ms, this title of division is omitted, the Clerkes 
Tale being arranged in five parts only. 

8825. glad. Ms. Harl. reads good. , . ^ ». 

8848. feyntyng. The H»rl. Ms. reads feymjng, the t having been prob- 
ably omitted by accident. The Latin text has, " neque lu hoc unquam fat*- 
yabor." 



THE CLERKES TALE. 255 



And sche the moste servisable of alle 

Hath every chamber arrayed, and his halle. 

Aboil ten undern gan this erl alight, 
Tiiat with him brought these noble children tweye ; 
For which the peple ran to se that sight 
Of her array, so richely biseye. 8860 

And than at erst amonges hem thay seye, 
That Walter was no fool, though that him lest 
To chaunge his wyf ; for it was for the best. 

For sche is fairer, as thay demon alle. 
Than is Grisild, and more tender of age, 
And fairer fruyt bitwen hem schulde falle, 
And more plesaunt for hir high lynage. 
Hir brother eek so fair was of visage. 
That hem to seen the peple hath caught plesaunce, 
Comending now the marquys governaunce. 8870 

O stormy poeple, iinsad and ever untrewe. 
And undiscret, and chaungyng as a fane, 
Delytyng ever in rombel that is newe, 
For lik the moone ay wax ye and Avane ; 
Ay ful of clappyng, dere y-nough a jane, 
Youre doom is fals, your constaunce yvel previth, 
A ful gret fool is he that on yow leevith. 

Thus sayde saad folk in that citee, 
Whan that the poeple gased up and doun ; 
For thay were glad right for the novelte, 8880 

To have a newe lady of her toun. 
No more of this now make I mencioun, 
But to Grislldes agayn wol I me dresse, 
And telle hir Constance, and her busynesse. 

Ful busy was Grisild in every thing, 
That to the feste was appertinent ; 
Right nought was sche abaissht of hir clothing, 
Though it were ruyde, and som del eek to-rent, 
But with glad cheer to the gate is sche went, 
With other folk, to griete the marquisesse, 8890 

And after that doth forth her busynesse. 

With so glad chier his gestes sche receyveth. 
And so connyngly evorich in his degre, 
That no defaute no man aparceyveth, 
But ay thay wondren what sche mighte be. 
That in so pover array was for to se, 

8877. erl. The Harl. Ms. reads lord i but the reading jiere adopted from 
other Mss. is supported by the words of Petraich : " Froximse lucis bora ter- 
tia, comes superveiierat." 

8S73. delytyng. The reading of INIs. Harl, is det^i/yiyng, which does not 
5 Bern to afford so good a seuse. 



266 TEE CANTERBUEY TALES. 



And couthe such honour and reverence, 
And worthily thay prayse hir prudence. 

In all this mene while sche ne stent 
This mayde and eek hir brother to comende 8900 

With al hir hert in ful benigne entent, 
So wel, that no man couthe hir pris amende ; 
But atte last whan that these iordes wende 
To sitte doun to mete, he gan to calle 
Grisild, as sche was busy in his halle. 

"Grisyld," quod he, as it were in his play, 
** How likith the my wif and hir beaute ? " 
** Right wel, my lord," quod sche, " for in good fay, 
A fairer saugh I never noon than sche. 
I pray to God give hir prosperite ; 8910 

And so hope I, that he wol to yow sende 
Plesaunce y-nough unto your lyves ende. 

'* On thing warn I yow and biseke also, 
That ye ne prike with no tormentynge 
This tendre mayden, as ye have do mo ; 
For sche is fostrid in hir norischinge 
More tendrely, and to my supposynge 
Sche couthe not adversite endure, 
As couthe a pore fostrid creature." 

And whan this Walter saugh hir pacience, 8920 

Hir glade cheer, and no malice at al, 
And he so oft had doon to hir offence, 
And sche ay sad and constant as a wal, 
Continuyng ever hir innocence over al. 
This sturdy marquys gan liis herte dresse 
To rewen upon hir wyfly stedefastnesse. 

" This is y-nough, Grisilde myn," quod he, 
*' Be now no more agast, ne yvel apayed. 
I have thy faith and thy benignite. 
As wel as ever womman was, assayed 8930 

In gret estate, and propreliche arrayed ; 
Now knowe I, dere wyf, thy stedefastnesse ', " 
And hir in amies took, and gan hir kesse. 

And sche for wonder took of it no keepe ; 
Sche herde not what thing he to hir sayde, 
Sche ferd as sche had stert out of a sleepe, 
Til sche out of hir masidnesse abrayde. 
" Grisild," quod he, " by God that for us deyde, 
Thou art my wyf, ne noon other 1 have, 

8901. benigne. Tbo reading of Ms. Harl. is buxom. 

8915. mo. For me, to suit the rhyme. Tyrwhitt has pointed this out as 
one of the most remarkable licenses that Chaucer has taken in altering the 
onlio^raphy of a word for this purpose. 



THE CLERK ES TALE. 257 

Ne never had, as God my soule save. 8940 

" This is my doughter, which thou hast supposed 
To be my wif ; tiiat other faithfully 
Schal be myii heir, as 1 have ay purposed ; 
Thow bar hem in thy body trewely. 
At Boloyne have I kept hem prively ; 
Tak hem agayn, for now maistow not seye, 
That thou hast lorn noon of thy children tweye. 

" And folk, that other weyes han seyd of me, 
I warn hem wel, that I have doon this deede 
For no malice^ no for no cruelte, 8950 

But for tassaye in the thy wommanhede ; 
And not to slen my children, (God forbede I) 
But for to kepe hem j)rively and stille, 
Til I thy pur])r s knewe and al thy will." 

Whan scue this herd, aswoned doun sche fallith 
For pitous joy. and after hir swownyng 
Sche bothe hir yonge children to hir callith. 
And in hir armes i)itously wepyng 
Embraseth hem, and tenderly kissyng, 
Ful lik a moder with hir salte teris 8960 

Sche bathis bothe hir visage and hir eeris. 

O, such a pitous thing it was to see 
Her swownyng, and hir humble vols to heere I 
" Qraunt mercy, lord, God thank it yow," quod sche, 
•* That ye han saved me my children deere. 
Now rek 1 never to be deed right heere, 
Sith I stond in your love and in your grace, 
No fors of deth, ne whan my spirit pace. 

" tender deere yonge children myne> 
Youre woful moder wende stedefastly, 8970 

That cruel houndes or som foul vermyne 
Had eten yow ; but God of his mercy, 
And your benigne fader tenderly 
Ha.th doon yow kef)e." And in that same stounde 
Al sodeinly sche swapped doun to grounde. 

And in hir swough so sadly holdith sche 
Hir children tuo, whan sche gan hem tembrace, 
That with gret sleight and gret difficulte 
The children from her arm they gonne arace. 
O ! many a teer on many a pitous face 8980 

Doun ran of hem that stooden hir bisyde, 
Unnethe aboute hir mighte thay abyde. 

Waltier hir gladith, and hir sorwe slakith, 

8965. In tho Hail. M.S. this line stands, That ye han kept my children so 
Jeere, but the reading given in the text, and adopted by Tyrwhitt, sooms to 
aae preferable. 

17 



258 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Sche rysith up abaisshed from hir traunce, 
And every wight hir joy and feste makith, 
Til sche hath caught agayn hir continaunce. 
Wauter hir doth so faithfully plesaunce, 
That it was daynte for to see tlie cheere 
Bitwix hem tuo, now thay be met in feere. 

These ladys, whan that thay her tyme say, 8990 

Han taken hir, and into chambre goon, 
And strippe hir out of hir rude array, 
And in a cloth of gold that brighte schon, _ 
With a coroun of many a riche stoon 
Upon hir heed, thay into halle hir brought ; 
And ther sche w^s honoured as hir ought. 

Thus hath this pitous day a blisful ende ; 
For every man and womman doth his might 
This day in mirth and revel to despende, 
Til on the welken schon the sterres bright ; 9000 

For more solempne in every mannes sight 
This feste was, and gretter of costage, 
Than was the revel of hir mariage. 

Ful many a yer in heigh prosperite 
Lyven these tuo in concord and in rest, 
And richeliche his doughter maried he 
Unto a lord, on of the worthiest 
Of al Ytaile, and thanne in pees and rest 
His wyves fader in his court he kepith. 
Til that the soule out of his body crepith. 9010 

His sone succedith in his heritage, 
In rest and pees, after his fader day 3 
And fortunat was eek in mariage, 
Al put he not his wyf in gret a-ssay. 
This world is not so strong, it is no nay. 
As it hath ben in olde tymes yore, 
And herknith, what this auctor saith therfore. 

This story is sayd, not for that wyves scholde 
Folwe Grrisild, as in humilite. 

For it were importable, though thay wolde ; 9020 

But for that every wight in his degre 
Schulde be constant in adversite, 
As was Grisild, therfore Petrark writeth 
This story, which with high stile he enditeth 

For swich a womman was so pacient 



9018. This and the next stanza are translated almost literally from 
Petrarch's Ivatin. 

9025. For .swich a womman, &c.—\. e. Because such a woman was so patient, 
we ought the more, &c. The Lansd. Ms. and others have For sUh a woiiwuh^ 
vrhicii ma; possibijr be tlie correct reading. 



TRE CLERKES TALE. ii59 



Unto a mortal man, wel more us oughte 

Receyven al in gre that God us sent. 

For gret skil is he prove that he wroughte, 

But he ne temptith no man that he boughte, 

As saith seint Jame, if ye his pistii rede ; 9030 

He provith folk al day, it is no drede ; 

And suffrith us, as for our exercise, 
With scharpe scourges of adversite 
Ful ofte to be bete in sondry wise ; 
Nought for to knowe oure wille, for certes he, 
Er we were born, knew al our frelte ; 
And for oure best is al his governaunce ; 
Leet us thanne lyve in vertuous suffraunce. 

But oo word, lordes, herkneth er I go : 
It were ful hard to fyndc now a dayes 9040 

As Grisildes in al a toun thre or tuo ; 
For if that thay were put to such assay es, 
The gold of hem hath now so badde alayes 
With bras, that though the coyn be fair at ye, 
It wolde rather brest in tuo than plye. 

For which heer, for the wyves love of Bathe, — 
Whos lyf and alle of hir secte God meyntene 
In high maistry, and elles were it scathe, — 
I wil with lusty herte freisch and grene, 
Say yow a song to glade yow, I wene ; 9050 

And lat us stynt of ernestful matiere, 
Herknith my song, that saith in this manere. 

Venvoye de Chaucer. 

Grisild is deed, and eek hir pacience, 
And bothe at oones buried in Itayle ; 
For whiche I crye in open audience, 
No weddid man so hardy be to assayle 
His wyves pacience, in hope to fynde 
Grisildes, for in certeyn he schal fayle. 

noble wyves, ful of heigh prudence, 
Let noon humilite your tonges nayle ; 9060 

Ne lat no clerk have cause or diligence 
To write of yow a story of such mervayle, 
As of Grisildes pacient and kynde, 
Lest Chichi vache yow swolwe in hir entraiie. 

9064. Chichivachs. According to a popular fable, which seems to have 
had its origin in France, the chiclievache or chichtface, wa^ a muiisier which 
lived only on good women, and which was said to be always ihiii and meagre 
on account of the extreme rarity of this article of food. M. Achille Jubiiial, 
in the notes to his Mysth-ts in^dits du xc siic\c, lorn. i. p. 3'JO, has printed a 
French poetical description of this animal from a manuscripL of tho tour- 



260 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Folwith ecco, that holdith no silence, 
But ever answereth at the countretayle ; 
Betli nought bydaffed for your innocence, 
But schari>ly tak on yow the governayle ; 
Enipryntith wel this lessoun on your mynde, 
For coniun profyt, sith it may avayle. 9070 

Ye archewy ves, stondith at defens, 
Syn ye ben strong, as is a greet chamayle, 
Ke suffre not, that men yow don offens. 
And sclendre wyves, felle as in batayle, 
Beth egre as is a tyger yond in Inde ; 
Ay clappith as a mylle, I yow counsaile. 

JNe drede hem not, do hem no reverence. 
For though thin housbond armed be in mayle. 
The arwes of thy crabbid eloquence 
Schal perse his brest, and eek his adventayle ; 9080 

In gelousy I rede eek thou him bynde, 
And thou schalt make him couche as doth a quayle. 

If thou be fair, ther folk ben in presence 
Schew thou thy visage and thin apparaile ; 
If thou be foul, be fre of thy despense, 
To gete the frendes do viy thy travayle ; 
Be ay of chier as light as lef on lynde. 
And let hem care and wepe, and wryng and wayle. 



THE PROLOGE OP THE MARCHAUNDES TALE. 

** Wepyng and wailyng, care and other sorwe 
I kuowe y-nough, bothe on even and on morwe," 9090 

tcentb century. In the French miracle of St. Genevieve, of the fifteenth cen- 
tury (J ubiuul, ib. p. 281), a man says satirically to the saint, 

Gardez-vous de la chicliefaci'. 

El V0U8 mordra s'el vous encontre, 

VouB n'amendez point sa besoigne. 

J am not aware of any allusion to this fable in England before Chaucer ; but 
our countrymen carried the satire still further, and added another beast 
named Bycorn, who lived upon good and patient husbands, and who was as 
fat as the other was lean, on account of the abundance of his favorite food. 
A poem by Lydgate on " Bycorne and (Jhichevache," is printed in Mr. Halli- 
wellV Miimr I'oevis of Dan John Lydgate, i>. 129. A large woodcut, printed 
in a broadside of the time of Elizabeth, and preserved in a collection of 
broa<isidey, <S:c., in the library of the Society of Antiquarians, gives a repre- 
Bentaiion of these two monsters. 

0074. iri/res. The reading of the Harl. Ms. is wydetves. 

The Prolof/e. Tliis prologue is omitted in some MSS., and in others a dif- 
feieiit prologue is given, and the Clerkes Tale is in some followed by the 
Frankehin's 'J'ale. The prologue and arrangement of the Harl. Ms. are, 
however, evidently the genuine ones. Tyrwlutt quotes from other MSS. %ht 
following concluduig stanza to the envoye : 



TEE MARCHAVNDES TALE. 



261 



Quod the marchaund, ** and so dooQ other mo, 

That weddid ben ; I trowe that it be so, 

For wel I woot it fareth so with me. 

I have a wyf, the worste that may be, 

For thoug:h the feend to hir y-coupled were, 

Sche wold him overmacche I dar wel swere. 

What schuld I yow reherse in special 

Hir high malice ? sche is a schrewe at al. 

Ther is a long and a large difference 

Betwix Grisildes grete pacience, 9100 

And of my wyf the passyng crueite. 

Were I unbounden, al so mot I the, 

I wolde never eft come in the snare. 

We weddid men lyve in sorwe and care, 

Assay it who so wil, and he schal fynde 

That I say soth, by seint Thomas of Inde, 

As for the more part, I say not alle ; 

God schilde that it scholde so byfalle. 

A ! good sir host, I have y-weddid be 

Thise monethes tuo, and more not, parde ; 9110 

And yit I trowe that he, that al his lyve 

Wyfies hath ben, though that men wold him rive 

Unto the hert, ne couthe in no manere 

Tellen so moche sorwe, as I now heere 

Couthe telle of my wyfes cursednesse." 

"Now," quod our ost, " Marchaunt, so God yow 
blesse I 
Sin ye so moche knowen of that art, 
Ful hertily tellith us a part." 
" Gladly," quod he, ** but of myn oughne sore 
For sory hert I telle may na more." 9120 

THE MARCHAUNDES TALE. 

Whilom ther was d welly ng in Lombardy 
A worthy knight, that born was of Pavy, 

This worthy clerk whan ended was his tale, 

Our hoste saide and swore by oockes bones, 

Me were lever than a barrel of ale 

My wif at home had herd this legend ones ; 

This is a gentil tale for the nones, 

As to my purpos, wiate ye my wille, 

But thing that wol not be, let it be stille. 

The Marchaundes Tale. Tlie French fabliau, rrora which this tale was no 
doubt translated, is not now known to exist ; but the subject has beer pre- 
servod in Latin in the metrical tales of Adolf us, printed in my Latin Stories 
p. 174, uf which collection it forms the first tale. It is told also in a Latiu 
prose tale given in my Latin Stories, p. 78, from the Appendix to the editions 
of -i3£sop'8 Fables printed in the liXtoezith century. 



262 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



In which he lyved in gret prosperite ; 

And fourty yer a wifles man was he, 

And folwed ay his bodily delyt 

On wommen, ther as was his appetyt, 

As doon these fooles that ben seculere. 

And whan that he was passed sixty yere, 

Were it for holyness or for dotage, 

I can not say, but such a gret corrage 91 ?0 

Hadde this knight to ben a weddid man, 

rhat day and night he doth al that he can 

Taspye wher that he mighte weddid be ; 

Praying our lord to graunte him, that he 

Might oones knowen of that blisful lif 

That is bitwix an housbond and his wyf, 

And for to lyve under that holy bond 

With which God first man to womman bond. 

" Noon other lif," sayd he, " is worth a bene ; 

For wedlok is so holy and so clene, 914C 

That in this world it is a paradis." 

Thus sayd this olde knight, that was so wys. 

And certeinly, as soth as God is king, 

To take a wyf is a glorious thing. 

And namely whan a man is old and hoor, 

Than is a wyf the fruyt of his tresor ; 

Than schuld he take a yong wif and a fair, 

On which he might engendre him an hair, 

And lede his lyf in mirthe and solace, 

Wheras these bachileres synge alias, 9150 

Whan that thay fynde eny adversite 

In love, which is but childes vanite. 

And trewely it sit wel to be so. 

That bachilers have ofte peyne and wo ; 

On brutil ground thay bulde, and brutelnesse 

Thay fynde, whan thay wene sikernesse ; 

Thay lyve but as a brid other as a best, 

In liberte and under noon arrest ; 

Ther as a weddid man, in his estate, 

Lyvith his lif busily and ordinate, 9160 

Under the yok of mariage i-bounde ; 

9128. sixty. The Harl. Ms. reada here, as in 1. 9124, fourty. Tyrwliitt reads 
in both places sixty. The Lansdowiie Ms. has xl in the first place, and Ix in 
the second, which numbers I have thought it safest to adopt : the iransposi- 
tion of / and x easily gave rise to different readings. I suppose that Chaucer 
meant to reckon the period during which his hero remained " wifles " from 
the ordinary period of marriage, or about his twentieth year. The reading of 
Ms. Harl., in 1. 912.<<, is totally incompatible with the old age and impotency 
under which January is described as laboring. 

9160. busily. The Ms. Lansdowne has blis/ul, which is the reading adopted 
by Tyrwhitt. 



TEE MARCHAUNDES TALE. i^63 



Wei may his lierte in joye and blisse aboiinde. 

For who can be so buxom as a wyf ? 

Who is so trewe and eek so ententyf 

To kepe him, seek and hool, as is his make ? 

For wele or woo sche wol him not forsake. 

Sch<? is not wery him to love and serve, 

Theigh that he lay bedred til that he sterve. 

And yet som clerkes sevn it is not so, 

Of which Theofrast is oon of tlio. 91 70 

What fors though Theofrast liste lye ? 

Ne take no wif, quod he, for housbondrye, 

As for to spare in houshold thy dispense ; 

A trewe servaunt doth more diligence 

Thy good to kepe, than thin oughne wif, 

For sche wol clayme half part in al hir lif. 

And if that thou be seek, so God me save, 

Thyne verray frendes or a trewe knave 

Wol kepe the bet than sche that waytith ay 

After thy good, and hath doon many a day. 9180 

And if thsut thou take a wif, be war 

Of oon peril, which declare I ne dar. 

This entent, and an hundrid sithe wors, 
Writith this man, ther God his bones curs. 

9172. Ne take no wif. " What follows to ver. 9180 incl. is taken from the 
Liber aureolus Theophrasti de nuptiis, as quoted by Hieronymus can.ra Jonn 
ianmn, and from thence by John of Salisbury, Polycrat. 1. viii. c. xi. (^aod 
si propter dispensationem domus,et languoris solatia, tt fugam sol it u-tHnia, 
duciintur uxores, multo melius dispensat scrvus Jidtlis, &c. Assid<re autr.m 
cegroianti magls possu7it amici et vemuloe benejiciis obligati quam tUa qua 
nobis imputet lachrymas suas," &c. — Tyrwhitt. 

9181. And if that. This and the following line are Tiot in the text of Tyr- 
whitt, who observes on this passage,—"' After this verse in the common editt. 
are these two : 

And if thou take to the a wife untrue, 

Ful oftentime it shall the sore rew." 

In Mss. A. C. and B. a. they stand thus : 

And if thou take a wif, be wel ywar 

Of on ^-^g which I declare ne dare. 
In Mss. C. 1. HA. D. thus : 



And if thou take a wif of heye lynage, 
She shal be hauteyn of gret costage. 



In Ms. B. i. thus : 

And if thou take a wif in thin ajie olde, 
Ful lightly uiayst thou be a cokewold. 

In M.ss, Ask. 1. 2. E. H. B- ^. N. o, and both Caxton's editt. thev are «nr,irely 
omitted, and so 1 believe they should be. If any one of thct^e couplrtt* -i.oHid 
be allowed to be from the hand of Chaucer, it c;tn only be conrtidered as the 
opening of a new argument, which the author, for some leasun ov (.iher. im 
mediatfly abandoned, and cousequently would have cancelled, if he had Jjveii 
to lublish his work." 



204 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



But take no keep of al such vanite ; 

Deffy Theofrast, and herkne me. 

A wyf is Goddes gifte verrayly; 

Al other maner giftes hardily, 

As landes, rentes, pasture, or comune, 

Or other moeblis, ben giftes of fortune, 

That passen as a schadow on a wal. 

But dred not, if 1 playnly telle schal, 9190 

A wyf wil last and in thin hous endure, 

Wei lenger than the lust perad venture. 

Mariage is a ful gret sacrament ; 

He which hath no wif I hold him schent ; 

He lyveth helple&, and is al desolate 

(I speke of folk in secular estate). 

And herken why, 1 say not this for nought, 

That womman is for mannes help i-wrought. 

The heighe God, whan he had Adam maked. 

And saugh him al aloone body naked, 9200 

God of his grete goodnes sayde thanne, 

Let us now make an helpe to this manne 

Lyk to himself ; and than he made Eve. 

Her may ye see, and here may ye preve, 

That wyf is mannes help and his comfort, 

His paradis terrestre and his desport. 

So buxom and so vertuous is sche, 

Thay mosten neede lyve in unite ; 

O fleisch thay ben, and on blood, as I gesse, 

Have but ooia hert in wele and in distresse. 9310 

A wyf? a I seinteMary, benedicite,^ 
How might a man have eny adversite 
That hath a wyf ? certes I can not say. 
The joye that is betwixen hem tway 
Ther may no tonge telle or herte think. 
If he be pore, sche helpith him to swynk ; 
Sche kepith his good, and wastith never a del, 
And al that her housbond list, sche iikith it wel ; 
Sche saith nought oones nay, whan he saith ye ; 
Do this, saith he ; al redy, sir, saith sche. 9220 

O blisful ordre, o wedlok precious ! 
Thou art so mery, and eek so vertuous, 
And so comendid, and approved eek, 
That every man that holt him worth a leek. 
Upon his bare knees ought al his lyf 

9200. body naked. Tyrwhitt reads from other mss. belly naked, which waa 
the ordiuary phrase for entirely naked. Ms. Lansd. has biy naked, which is 
probably a mere error for belly naked. 



THE MARCUAUNDES TALE. 265 



Thanken his God, that him hath sent a wif, 

Or pray to God oon him for to sende 

To be with him untc his lyves ende. 

For than his lyf is set in sikernesse ; 

He njay not be deceyved, as I gesse, 9230 

So that he worcho after his wyfes red ; 

Than may he boldely here up his heed, 

Thay ben so trewe, and also so wyse. 

For whiche, if thou wolt do as the wyse, 

Do alway so, as womman wol the rede. 

Lo how that Jacob, as the clerkes rede, 

By good counseil of his moder Rebecke, 

Band the kydes skyn about his nekke ; 

For which his fader benesoun he wan. 

Lo Judith, as the story telle can, 9240 

By wys counseil sche Goddes poepel kept, 

And slough him Oliphernus whil he slept. 

Lo Abygaille, by good counseil liow sche 
Savyd hir housbond Nabal, whan that he 
Schold han ben slayn. And loke. Hester also 
By good counseil delivered out of wo 
The poeple of God, and made him Mardoche 
Of Assuere enhaunsed for to be. 
Ther nys no thing in gre superlatif 
(As saith Senec) above an humble wyf. 9250 

Suffre thy wyves tonge, as Catoun byt, 
Sche schal comaunde, and thou schalt sufTre it, 
And yit sche wil obeye of curtesye. 

A wif is keper of thin housbondrye : 
Wei may tlie sike man wayle and wepe, 
Ther as ther is no wyf the hous to kepe. 
I warne the, if wisly thou wilt wirche, 
Love wel thy wyf, as Crist loveth his chirche ; 
If thou lovest thiself, thou lovest thy wyf. 



9244. Nabal. The Harl. Ms. reads Nacah, which appears to be a meie 
error of the scribe. 

924.5. Hester. The Harl. Ms. and some others read after also, an evidteiu 
error of the scribes. In 1. 9247 the Harl. Ms. reads corruptly Mandoche. Tht^ 
proper names are often corrupted in this manner by the ignorance or care- 
lessness of scribes, in manuscripts of early English poetry. 

9250. As stith Hence- The passage of Seneca alluded to was written in the 
margin of one of the Mss. consulted by IVrwhitt : " Sicut nihil est superius 
benigna conjuge, ita nihil est crudelius iniesta muliere." 

9251. as Catoun byt. The allusion is to the popular treatise entitled Cato 
(le Moribus, lib. iii. distich 25 : 

'* Uxoris lingtiam, si frugi est, ferre memento." 
9258. Love wel. &c. The allusion is to raul's Epist. to the Ephesians, W. 
25, 28, 29 : viri diligite uxores vestras, sicut et Christus dilexil ecclesiam . . . 
Qui Buam oxorem dili^t, seipsum diligit. Nemo euim uuquLua c&ruer:! 3.i:ue 
odio habuit : sed uutnt et fovet earn. 



266 THE CANTERBURY TALES 



No man hatith his fleissoli, but in his lif i»'>60 

He fostrith it, and th erf ore warne I the 

Cherissh thy wyf, or thou schalt never the. 

Housbond and wif, what so men jape or pleye, 

Of worldly folk holden the righte weye ; 

Thay ben so knyt, ther may noon harm bytyde, 

And nameliche upon the wyves syde. 

For which this January, of which I tolde, 

Considered hath in with his dayes olde 

The lusty lif, the vertuous quiete, 

That is in mariage honey-swete. 9270 

And for his frendes on a day he sent 
To tellen hem thetTect of his entent. 
With face sad, he hath hem this tale told ; 
He sayde, " Frendes, I am hoor and old, 
And almost (God woot) at my pittes brinke, 
Upon my soule som what most I thynke. 
I have my body folily dispendid, 
Blessed be God that it schal be amendid ; 
For I wil be certeyn a weddid man, 
And that anoon in al the hast I can, 9280 

Unto som mayde, fair and tender of age. 
I pray yow helpith for my mariage 
Al sodeynly, for I wil not abyde j 
And I wil fonde tespien on my syde, 
To whom I may be weddid hastily. 
But for als moche as ye ben mo than I, 
Ye schul rather such a thing aspien 
Than I, and wher me lust beste to allien. 
But oo thing warne I yow, my frendes deere, 
I wol noon old wyf have in no manere ; 9290 

Sche schal not passe sixtene yer certayn. 
Old fisch and yong fleisch, that wold I have ful fayn. 
Bet is," quod he, " a pyk than a pikerell. 
And bet than olde boef is the tendre vel. 
I wil no womman twenty yer of age, 
It nys but bene-straw and gret forage. 
And eek these olde wydewes (God it woot) 
Thay can so moche craft of Wades boot, 
So moche broken harm whan that hem list, 
That with hem schuld I never lyven in rest. 9300 

9298. of Wades boot. The popular legend of Wades' boat, iLoiigh well 
known in the sixteenth century, is now unfortunately lost, so that wf cannot 
fully understand the force of Chaucer's allusion. Wade was one of the 
heroes of the northern mythology, and like so many of tl^e same class, be- 
came subsequently the hero of a medieval romance of the same st bool as the 
romances of Horn and Havelok. M. Fr. Michel has collected together nearly 
all the passages of old writers that can now be found, in which he is men- 



THE MARCIIAUNDES TALE. 267 



For soiidry scolis maken subtil clerkes ; 
Womman of many a scole half a clerk is. 
But certeyn, a yong thing may men gye, 
Right as men may warm wax with hondes plye. 
Wherfor 1 say yow plenerly in a clause, 
I wil noon old wyf han right for that cause. 
For if so were I hadde so meschaunce, 
That I in hir ne couthe have no plesaunce, 
Than schuld I lede my lyf in advoutrie, 
And go streight to the devel whan I dye. 9310 

Ne children schuld I noon upon hir geten ; 
Yet were me lever houndes had me eten, 
Than that myn heritage schulde falle 
In straunge hond ; and thus I telle yow alia. 
I doute not, I wot the cause why 
Men scholde wedde ; and forthermor woot I, 
Ther spekith many man of mariage, 
That wot nomore of it than wot my page 
• For whiche causes man schuld take a wyf. 
If he ne may not chast be by his lif, 9320 

Take him a wif with gret devocioun, 
Bycause of lawful procreacioun 
Of children, to thonour of God above, 
And not oonly for paramour and for love ; 
And for thay schulde leccherye escliiewe, 
And yeld oure dettes whan that it is due ; 
Or for that ilk man schulde helpen other 
In meschief , as a suster schal the brother, 
And ly ve in chastite ful holily. 

But, sires, by your leve, that am not I, 9330 

For God be thanked, I dar make avaunt, 
I fele my lemys stark and suffisaunt 
To doon al that a man bilongeth unto ; 
I wot my selve best what I may do. 

" Though I be hoor, I fare as doth a tree, 
That blossemith er that the fruyt i-waxe be ; 
A blossemy tre is neither drye ne deed ; 
I fele me no wher hoor but on myn heed. 
Myn herte and al my lymes ben as greene, 
As laurer thurgh the yeer is for to seene. 9340 

tioned, in an essay in French, sur Vade. The medieval romance appears to 
have related a long seriea of wild adventures which Wade encountered in hia 
boat, named Guingelot ; and these adventures seem to be cited in the text au 
examples of craft and cunning : in another passage 'of Chaucer, Troilus, lib. 
lii. I. 616, they are spoken of as examples of romantic or idle tales,— 

'• He songe, she pleyede, he tolde a tale of Wade." 
9302. acolt. The Hari. Ms. reads skUe. 



268 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And synnes ye han herd al myn entent, 
I pray yow to my wille ye assent." 

Diverse men diversly him tolde 
Of mariage many ensamples olde ; 
Some blamed it, some praised it certayn ; 
But atte laste, schortly for to sayn, 
(As alday fallith altercacioun, 
Bitwixe frendes in dispitesoun) 
Ther fel a strif bitwen his bretheren tuo, 
Of which that oon was clepid Placebo, 9850 

Justinus sothly cleped was that other. 
Placebo sayde : '* O January, brother, 
Ful litel need had ye, my lord so deere, 
Counseil to axe of eny that is heere ; 
But that ye ben so ful of sapience, 
That yow ne likith for your heigh prudence 
To wayve fro the word of Salamon. 
This word, said he, unto us everychoon : 
Werk al thing by counsail, thus sayd he. 
And thanne schaltow nought repente the. 93C J 

But though that Salamon speke such a word, 
Myn owne deere brother and my lord, 
So wisly God bring my soule at rest, 
I holde your oughne counseil is the best. 
For, brother myn, of me tak this motif, 
I have now ben a court-man al my lyf, 
And God wot, though that I unworthy be, 
I have standen in ful gi-et degre 
Abouten lordes in f al high estat ; 

Yit had I never with noon of hem debaat 9370 

I never hem contraried trewely. 
I wot wel that my lord can more than I ; 
What that he saith, I hold it ferm and stable, 
I say the same, or elles thing semblable. 
A ful gret fool is eny counselour. 
That servith any lord of high honour, 
That dar presume, or oones tlienken it, 
That his counseil schuld passe his lordes wit. 
Nay, lordes ben no fooles by my fay. 
Ye have your self y-spoken heer to day 9380 

So heigh sentens, so holly, and so wel. 
That I consente, and conferme every del 
Your wordes alle, and youre oppinioun. 
By God, ther is no man in al this toun 

9363. at rest. The Harl. Ms. reads at ese and rest, which makes the line 
too long. The word ese haa probably crept in as a gloss upon rest, or as a 
rariouB reading. 



TEE MARCHAUNDES TALE. 269 



Ne in Ytaile, couthe better have sayd ; 

Crist holdith him of this ful wel apayd. 

And trewely it is an heigh corrage 

Of any man that stopen is in age, 

To take a yong wyf , by my fader kyn ; 

Your herte hongith on a joly pyn. 9390 

DotJi now in this matier right as yow lest, 

For fynally I hold it for the best." 

Justinus, that ay stille sat and herde. 

Right in this wise he to Placebo answerde. 

" Now, brother myn, be pacient I yow pray, 

Syns ye have sayd, and herknith what 1 say : 

Senek amonges other wordes wyse 

Saith, that a man aiight him wel avyse. 

To whom he giveth his lond or his catel. 

And syns I aught avyse me right wel, iiJO 

To whom I give my good away fro me, 

Wel more 1 aught avised for to be 

To whom I give my body ; for alwey 

1 warn yow wel it is no childes pley 

To take a wyf withoute avisement. 

Men most enquere (this is myn assent) 

Wher sche be wys, or sobre, or dronkelewe, 

Or proud, or eny other way a schrewe, 

A cliyder, or a wastour of thy good, 

Or riche or pore, or elles man is wood. 9410 

Al be it so, that no man fynde schal 

Noon in this world, that trottith hool in al, 

Neyther man, ne best, such us men can devyse. 

But natheles it aught y-nough suffise 

With any wyf, if so were that sche hadde 

Mo goode thewes than hir vices badde ; 

And al this askith leyser to enquere. 

For God woot, I have weped many a tere 

Ful prively, syns I hav^e had a wyf. 

Prayse who so wil a weddid mannes lif, 9420 

Certes I fynd in it but cost and care, 

And observaunce of alle blisses bare. 

And yit, God woot, myn neighebours aboute, 

And namely of wommen many a route, 

Sayn that 1 have the moste stedefast wyf, 

And eek the meekest oon that berith lyf. 

But I woot best, wher wryugith me my scho. 

Ye may for me right as yow liste do. 

Avysith yow, ye ben a man of age, 



9127. my echo. See before the note ou 1. 6074. 



270 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



How that ye entern into mariage ; 9430 

And namly with a yong wif and a fair. 

By him that made water, eorthe, and air, 

The yongest man, that is in al this route, 

Is busy y-nough to bring it wel aboute 

To have his wif alloone, trustith me ; 

Ye schul not please hir fully yeres thre, 

This is to say, to doon hir ful plesaunce 

A wyf axith ful many an observaunce. 

I pray yow that ye be not evel apayd." 

"Wel," quod this January, " and hastow sayd? 9440 

Straw for th}^ Senec, and for thy proverbis ! 

1 counte nought a panyer ful of herbes 

Of scole termes ; wiser men than thow, 

As I have sayd, assenten her right now 

Unto my purpose : Placebo, what say ye ? " 

'• I say it is a cursed man," quod he, 

" That lettith matrimoigne sicurly." 

And with that word thay rysen up sodeinly, 

And ben assented fully, that he scholde 

Be weddid whan him lust, and wher he wolde. 9450 

The fantasy and the curious busynesse 
Fro day to day gan in the soule impresse 
Of January aboute his mariage. 
Many a fair schap, and many a fair visage, 
Ther passith thorugh his herte night by night. 
As who so took a mirrour polissched bright, 
And set it in a comun market place, 
Than schuld he se many a figure pace 
By his mirrour ; and in the same wise 
Gan January in his thought devyse 9460 

Of maydens, which that dwellid him bisyde ; 
He wist not where that he might abyde. 
For though that oon have beaute in hir face. 
Another stant so in the poeples grace 
For hir sadness and hir benignite, 
That of the poeple grettest vols hath sche ; 
And som were riche and hadde badde name 
But natheles, bitwix ernest and game. 
He atte last appoynted him an oon, 
And let al other fro his herte goon, 9470 

And ches hir of his oughne auctorite, 
For love is blynd al day, and may not se. 
And whan he was into bedde brought. 
He purtrayed in his hert and in his thought 
Her freische beaute, and hir age tendre, 
iiir myddel smal, hir armes long and sclendre, 



THE MARCHAUNDES TALE. 271 



Hir wise governaunce, hir gentilesse, 
Hir wommanly beryrig, and hir sadnesse. 

And "whan that he on hir was condescendid, 
Him thought his chois mighte nought be aniendid ; 
For whan that he himself concludid hadde, 9481 

Him thought ech other mannes witte so badde, 
That impossible it were to repplie 
Agayn his choys ; this was his fantasie. 
His frendes sent he to, at his instaunce, 
And prayed hem to doon him that plesaunce, 
That hastily thay wolde to him come ; 
He wold abrigge her labour alle and some. 
Nedith no more for him to gon ne ryde. 
He was appoynted ther he wold abyde. -<490 

Placebo cam, and eek his frendes soone, 
And althirfirst he bad hem alle a boone, 
That noon of hem noon argumentis make 
Agayn the purpos which that he had take ; 
Which purpos was plesaunt to God, sayd he, 
And verray ground of his prosperite. 

He sayd, ther was a mayden in that toun, 
Which that of beaute hadde gret renoun, 
Al were it so, sche were of smal degre, 
SuflQsith him hir youthe and hir beaute ; 9500 

Which mayde, he sayd, he wold have to his wyf, 
To lede in ease and holinesse his lyf ; 
And thanked God, that he might have hir al, 
That no wight with his blisse parten schal ; 
And prayed hem to laboure in this neede. 
And schapen that he faile not to speede. 
For than, he sayd, his spirit was at ease; ■> 

" Than is," quod he, " no thing may me displease, 
Save oon thing prikkith in my conscience, 
The which I wil reherse in your presence. 9510 

I have herd sayd," quod he, " ful yore ago, 
Ther may no man have parfyt blisses tuo, 
•This is to say, in erthe and eek in hevene. 
For though he kepe him fro the synnes sevene, 
And eek from ylk a braunche of thilke tre, 
Yit is ther so parfyt felicite 
And so gret ease and lust in mariage, 

9482. witte. This is the reading of Lansd. Ms. The Harl. Ms. reads wyf, 
^\i\'-h appears to be incorrect. 

\)bW. youthe. This reading also is adopted from the Lansdowne Ms., as 
being apparently better than th.\t of tlie llarl. Ms., which has truuth. 

9515. brcmnche. The popular medieval tieatises on the seven sins arrange 
the minor transgressions connected wiih each as branches of the primary 
tree. 



272 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



That ever I am agast now in myn age, 

That I schal lede now so mery a lyf, 

So delieat, withoute wo and stryf, 9520 

That I schal have myn heven in erthe heere. 

For sith that verrey heven is bought so deere 

With tribulacioun and gret penaunce, 

How schuld I thanne, that live in such plesaunce 

As alle weddid men doon with her wyves, 

Come to blisse ther Crist eterne on lyve is ? 

This is my drede, and ye, my bretheren tweye 

Assoilith me this questioun, I yow preye." 

Justinus, which that hated his folye, 
Answerd anoon right in his japerie ; 9530 

And for he wold his longe tale abrigge, 
He wolde noon auctorite alegge, 
But sayde, " Sir, so ther be noon obstacle 
Other than this, God of his high miracle. 
And of his mercy may so for yow wirche, 
That er ye have your rightes of holy chirche, 
Ye may repente of weddid mannes lyf. 
In which ye sayn ther is no wo ne stryf ; 
And ellis God forbede, but he sente 
A weddid man grace him to repente 9540 

Wei ofte, rather than a sengle man. 
And therfor, sire, the beste reed I can, 
Dispaire yow nought, but have in youre memorie, 
Perad venture sche may be your purgatorie ; 
Sche may be Goddes mene and Goddes whippe ; 
Than schal your soule up to heven skippe 
Swyfter than doth an arwe out of a bo we. 
I kope to God herafter ye shuln knowe, 
That ther nysnoon so gret felicite 
In mariage, ne nevermor schal be, 9550 

That yow schal lette of your savacioun, 
So that ye use, as skile is and resoun. 
The lustes of your wyf attemperely. 
And that ye please hir not to amorously ; 
And that ye kepe yow eek frouj other synne. 
My tale is doon, for my witt is thynne. 
Beth not agast herof, my brother deere, 
But let us waden out of this matiere. 
The wif of Bathe, if ye han understonde, 
Of mariage, which ye han now in honde, 9560 

Declared hath ful wel in litel space ; 
Fareth now well, God have yow in his grace." 

And with that word this Justinus and his brother 
Han take her leve, and ech of hem of other. 



And whan thay saugh that it most needis be, 
Thay wroughten so by sleight and wys trete, 
That sche this mayden, which that Mayhus hight, 
As hastily as ever that sche might, 
Schal weddid be unto this Janiiarie. 
I trowe it were to longe vow to tarie, 0570 

If I yow tolde of every serit and bond, 
By which that sche was feoffed in his lond ; 
Or for to herken of hir riche array. 
But finally y-comen is that day, 
That to the chirche bothe ben thay went, 
For to receyve the holy sacrament. 
Forth comth the preost, with stoole about his necke, 
And bad hir be lik Sarra and Rebecke 
In wisdom and in trouth of mariage ; 
And sayd his orisouns, as is usage, 9580 

And crouched hem, and bad God schuld hem blesse, 
And made al secur y-nowh with holinesse. 
Thus ben thay weddid with solempnite ; 
And atte fest sittith he and sche 
With othir worthy folk upon the deys. 
Al ful of joy and blis is the paleys, 
And ful of instrumentz, and of vitaile, 
The moste deintevous of a) Ytaile. 
Biforn hem stood such instruments of soun. 
That Orpheus, ne of Thebes Amphioun, 9590 

Ne maden never such a melodye. 
At every cours ther can loud menstralcye, 
That never tromped Joab for to heere, 
Ne he Theodomas yit half so cleere 
At Thebes, whan the cite was in doute. 
Bachus the wyn hem schenchith al aboute, 
And Venus laughith upon every wight, 
(For January was bycome hir knight, 
And wolde bothe assayen his corrage 
In liberte and eek in mariage) 9600 

And with hir fuyrbrond in hir hond aboute 
Daunceth bifore the bryde and al the route. 
And certeynly 1 dar right wel say this, 
Ymeneus, that god of weddyng is, 

9573. herken. Other MSS., with Tyrwbitt, have rekken. 

9594. JVe he Theodomas. " This person is mentioned again as a famoua 
trumpeter in the H. of F iii. 150, but upon what authority I really du not 
know. I should suspect that our author met with hiui, and the aneodote 
alluded to, in some Romantic History of 'J'hebes. Ih- is prefixed to proper 
names empliaiicaily, ace'>rding to the Saxon usage. See before ver. 924:.', him 
Holof ernes ; ver. 9247, him Mardochee ; and below ver. 9608. Of hire Philolo 
gie and him Mercury."— 7'//r//,-/u//. 

lb 



274 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Seigh. never his lif so mery a weddid man. 

Ilolde thy pees, thow poete Marcian, 

That writest us that like weddyng merye 

Of liir Philologie and he Mercurie, 

And of the songes that the Muses songe ; 

To smal is bothe thy penne and eek thy tonge 9610 

For to descrive of this niariage. 

Whan tend^er youthe hath weddid stoupyngago, 

Ther is such niirthe that it may not be write ', 

Assaieth it your self, than may ye wyte 

If that I lye or noon in this mateere. 

Mayus, that sit with so benigne a cheere, 

Hir to bihold it seemed fayerye ; 

Queen Ester loked never with such an ye 

On Assuere, so meke a look hath sche ; 

1 may not yow devyse al hir beaute 3620 

But thus moche of hir beaute telle I may, 

That sche was lyk the brighte morw of May, 

Fulfild of alle beaute and plesaunce. 

This January is ravyscht in a traunce, 
At every tyme he lokith in hir face. 
But in his hert he gan hir to manace, 
That he that night in armes wold hir streyn* 
Harder than ever Paris did Eleyne. 
But natheles yit had he gret pite 

That thilke night offenden hir most he, 9630 

And thought : " Alas I O tendre creature, 
Now wolde God ye mighte wel endure 
Al my corrage, it is so scharp and keene ; 
I am agast ye schul it not susteene. 
For God forbede, that I dede al my might. 
Now wolde God that it were woxe night, 
And that the night wold stonden evermo. 
I wold that al this poeple were ago." 
And fynally he doth al his labour, 

As he best mighte, savyng his honour, 9640 

To hast hem from the mete in subtil wise. 

The tyme cam that resoun was to ryse, 
And after that men daunce, and drynke fast, 
And spices al about the hous thay cast, 
And ful of joy and blis is every man> 
Al but a squier, that hight Damyan, 

9606. Marcian. Marcianus Capella, tlie well-known author of a kind of 
philosophical romance, De Nuptiis Merctirii et I'hUologim. 

9608. he Mercurie. Tyrwhitt reads him. See his observations in the note 
on 1. 9594. I have not ventured to alter the reading cf the Harl. Ms. where it 
Involves a question of grammatical construction. 

9637. stonden. Other mss. read Ictsten. 



THE MARCHAUNDES TALE. 275 



Which karf to-for the knight ful many a day ; 

He was so ravyssht on his lady May, 

That for the verray peyne he was nigh wood ; 

Almost he swelt and swowned ther he stood ; 9650 

So sore hath Venus hurt him with hir brond, 

As that sche bare it daunsyng in hir hond. 

And to his bed he went him hastily ; 

No more of him as at this time telle I ; 

But ther I lete him now his wo compleyne, 

Til freisshe May wol rewen on his peyne. 

O perilous fuyr, that in the bed-straw bredith f 

O famuler fo, that his service bedith ! 

O servaunt traitour, false homly hewe, 

Lyk to the nedder in bosom sleighe untrewe, 9660 

God schild us alle from your acqueintance 1 

O January, dronken in plesaunce 

Of mariage, se how thy Damyan, 

Thyn oughne squier and thy borne man, 

Entendith for to do the vilonye ; 

God graunte the thin homly fo espye. 

For in this world nys worse pestilence. 

Parfourmed hath the Sonne his ark diourne, 
No lenger may the body of him sojourne 9670 

On thorisonte, as in that latitude ; 
Night with his mantel, that is derk and rude, 
Gan oversprede themesperie aboute ; 
For which departed is the lusti route 
Fro January, with thank on every side. 
Hoom to her houses lustily thay ryde, 
Wher as thay doon her thinges, as hem leste, 
And whan thay seigh her tyme thay goon to reste. 
Soone after that this hasty Januarie 
Wold go to bed, he wold no lenger tarie. 9680 

He drinkith ypocras, clarre, and vernage 

9655. now his wo compleyne. Ms. Lansd., with others, reads let him wepe 
y-nowe and pleine. 

9659. homly. Homly of course means domestic : hetoeia the Aiiglo-S.iKon 
hiwa. a household servant. O false domestic servant ! This readinji of our 
MS. is undoubtedly the right one. Other MSS. have holy instead of hnvnii, an 
error perhaps arising from the omission of the mark of abbreviation by some 
scribe who copied the word when it was written Itoly. Tyrwhitt, liewcver, 
adopts this reading, mistakes the meaning of tlie word hewe, and, to inaKe 
sense of the passage, adds of, which is found in none of the mss. ; ami in luB 
text it stands, false of holy htwt, which he supposes to signify false of holy 
color. Conjectural emendations are always dangerous- 

9660. sleighe. I have added this word from the Ms. Lansdowne, as tJia 
line seems imperfect without it. 

96«1. vernaye. " Vernaccia, Ital. 'Credo sic dictum (says Skinner) tiuasi 
Veronaccia, ab agro Veronensi,in quo optimum ex hoc genere vinum crescit.' 
But the Vernage. whatever may have been the reason of its name, was pob- 
o^ly a wine of Crete, or of the neighboring continent, Froiss. v. iv. c. 18. !)• 



276 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Of spices bote, to encrese his corrage ; 

And uiany a letuary had he ful fyn, 

Such as the cursed monk daun Constantin 

Hath ■writen in his book de Coitu ; 

To ete hem alle he wold no tiling eschieu. 

And to his prive frendes thus sayd he : 

" For Goddes love, as soone as it maj'- be, 

Let voyden al this hous in curteys wise." 

And thay ban doon right as be wold devyse. 9690 

Men drinken, and the travers drawe anoon ; 

The bruyd was brought abedde as stille as stoon ; 

And whan the bed was with the prest y-blessid, 

Out of the chambre hath every wight him dressed, 

And January hath fast in armes take 

His freisshe May, his paradys, his make. 

He lullith hir, he kissith hir ful ofte ; 

With thikke bristlis on his herd unsofte, 

Lik to the skyn of houndfisch, scharp and brere. 

(For he was schave al newe in his manere) 9700 

He rubbith hir about hir tendre face, 

And sayde thus : " Alias I I mot trespace 

To yow, my spouse, and yow gretly offende, 

Or tyme come that I wol doun descende ; 

But natheles cousiderith this," quod he, 

" Ther nys no werkman, whatsoever he be, 

That may bothe werke wel and hastily ; 

This wol be doon at leysir parfitly. 

It is no fors how longe that we pleye ; 

In trewe wedlok coupled be we tweye ; 9710 

And blessed be the yoke that we ben inne, 

For in our actes we mow do no synne. 

A man may do no synne with his wif, 

Ne hurt himselven with his oughne knyf : 

For we han leve to play us by the lawe." 

Thus laborith he, til that the day gan dawe, 
And than he takith a sop in fyn clarre, 
And upright in his bed than sittith he. 
And after that he song ful lowd and clere, 
And kissed his wyf, and made wantouu cheere. 

I'isle tie Cande il leur venoit tres bonnes malvoisies et grenaches (r. rjem.aches) 
dont ils estoient largenient servis et confortez. Our author in another place, 
ver- l;iOOO, 1. joins together the wines of Afaln-sie and ytovuifje. ATalvasia 
was a tov/n upon the eastern coast of the Morea, near the site of the ancient 
Epidaurus Liniera, within a small distance from CvQlQ."—Tyrwhitt. 

9G81. Constantin. This medical writer lived about the year 1080, according 
to Fabricius, liihL M,d. ^Et. His works, including the treatise mentiouedin 
the text, were printed at Basil, fol. 1536. 

96>6. wnld. The Ms. Harl. reads nas, which seems not to furnish so good 
a grammatical coustruction. 



TEE MARCIIAUNDES TALE. 9^7 



He was al coltissch, ful of ragerye, 9721 

And ful of jargoun, as a flekked pye. 

The slakke skin about his nekke schakith, 

Whil that he song, so chaiinteth he and craketh. 

But God wot what that May thought in hir hert, 

Whan sche him saugh up sittying in his schert, 

In his night-cappe, and with his nekke lene ; 

Sche praysith nought his pleying worth a bene. 

Than sayd he thus : ' * My reste wol I take 

Now day is come, I may no lenger wake." 9730 

And doun he layd his heed and sleep til prime. 

And afterward, whan that he saugh his tyme, 

Up riseth January, but freissche May 

lioldith hir chamber unto the fourthe day, 

As usage is of wyves for the best. 

For every labour some tyme moot have rest. 

Or elles longe may he not endure ; 

This is to say, no lyves creature. 

Be it of fissch, or brid, or best, or man. 

Now wol I speke of woful Damyan, 9740 

That languyssheth for love, as ye schul here ; 
Therfor 1 speke to him in this manere. 
I say, *' O sely Damyan, alias 1 
Answere to my demaunde, as in thie caas, 
How schaltow to thy lady, freissche May, 
Telle thy woo ? Sche wol alway say nay ; 
Eek it thou speke, sche wol thy woo bywreye : 
God be thy help, I can no better seye." 

This seke Damyan in Venus fuyr 
So brennith, that he deyeth for desir ; 9750 

For which he put his lyf in aventure, 
No lenger might he in this wo endure, 
But prively a penner gan he borwe, 
And in a letter wrot he al his sorwe. 
In maner of a compleynt or of a lay, 
Unto his faire freissche lady May. 

97.2.'?. schaketh. I have adopted this reading from the Lansd. Ms., a.; being 
prefetal^le to that of the Ms. Harl. slaketh. which is a repetition of tlie idea 
convened by the previous word slakke, and seems to create a redundancy in 
the meaning. 

9741. languyssheth. The Lansd. Ms. reads longurith,i. e. falls into lai^- 
guor. 

9753. a penner. The penner was a case containing the pens, ink, and other 
apjtaratus of writing, which the clerk carried about with him, ad the Eastern 
students do at the present day. As such articles belonged only to clergy and 
scholars, we understand why tlie "squire" Damyan was obliged to borrow 
on«. for his use. An early vocabulary entitled '' Nominale " mentions, among 
the nomina rerum pertinentium clerico, *' pennare, a poitr." 

it755. compleynt . . . lay. These were the technical names of two form* 
of metrical compo^iition. 



278 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And in a purs of silk, heng on his schert, 
He hath it put, and layd it at his hert. 

The moone that a-noon was thilke day 
That January hath weddid freische May 9760 

In tuo of Taure, was into Cancre gliden ; 
So long hath Mayus in hir chambre abiden, 
As custom is unto these nobles alle. 
A bryde schal not eten in the halle, 
Til dayes foure or tbre dayes atte lest 
I-passed ben, than let hir go to the fest. 
The fourthe day complet fro noon to noon, 
Whan that the heighe masse was i-doon, 
In halle sitte this January and May, 
As freissch as is the brighte someres day. 9770 

And so bifelle, that this goode man 
Remembrid him upon this Damyan, 
And sayde, " Seinte Mary ! how may this be,. 
That Damyan entendith not to me ? 
Is he ay seek ? or how may this bityde ?" 
His squiers, which that stoode ther bisyde, 
Excusid him, by cause of his syknesse, 
Which letted him to doon his busynesse ; 
Noon other cause mighte make him tarie. 
** That me for-thinketh," quod this Januarie ; 9780 
" He is a gentil squyer, by my trouthe, 
If that he deyde, it were harm and routhe. 
He is as wys, discret, and eek secre, 
As any man I wot of his degre, 
And therto manerly and servysable, 
And for to be a thrifty man right able. 
But after mete, as soon as ever I may 
I wol myself visit him, and eek May, 
To doon him al the confort that I can." 
And for that word him blessed every man, 9790 

That of his bounte and his gentilesse 
He wolde so comfort in seekenesse 
His squyer, for it was a gentil deede. 
" Dame," quod this January, " tak good heede. 
At after mete, ye with your wommen alle, 

9761. In tuo of Taure. I'yrwhitt alters this reading (which is that of nearly 
all the MSS.) into ten, and observes: "The greatest number of mss. read, 
two, tuo, too, or to. But the time given {foure dayes complete, ver. 9767) is not 
Buflicient for the moon to pass from the 2d degree of Taurus into Cancer. 
The mean daily motion of the moon being = 13^ 10' 35", her motion in 4 days 
is. = Is 22° 42', or not quite 53 degrees ; so that supposing her to set out from the 
2d of Taurus, she would not in that time be advanced beyond the 2r.th degree 
of Gemini. If she set out from the 10th decree of Taurus, as I have corrected 
thf lext, she mi^hi properly enough be said, in four days, to be gliden into 
Caiicei." — Tyrwhitt, 



THE MARCHAUNDES TALE. 279 



(Whan ye han ben in chambre out of this halle) 

That alle ye goo to se this Damyan ; 

Doth him desport, lie is a gentii man, 

And telhth him that I wil him visite, 

Have I no tiling but rested me a lyte ; 9800 

And spedith yow faste, for I wol abyde 

Til that ye slepe faste by my syde." 

And with that word he gan unto him calle 

A squier, that was marchal of his halle, 

And told him certeyn thinges that he wolde. 

This freisshe May hath streight hir wey i-holde 
With alle hir wommen unto Damyan. 
Doun by his beddes syde sat sche than, 
Comfortyng him as goodly as sche may. 

This Damyan, whan that his tyme he sa}', 9810 

In secre wise, his purs, and eek his bille, 
In which that he i-writen had his wille, 
Hath put into hir hond withouten more. 
Save that he siketh wonder deepe and sore, 
And softely to hir right thus say he ; 
"Mercy, and that ye not discover me ; 
For I am deed, if that this thing be kidde." 
This purs hath sche in with hir bosom hud, 
And went hir way ; ye gete no more of me ; 
But unto January comen is sche, 9820 

That on his leddes syde sit ful softe. 
He takith hir, and kissith hir ful ofte ; 
And layd him doun to slepe, and that anoon. 
Sche feyned hir as that sche moste goon 
Ther as ye woot that every wight moot neede ; 
And whan sche of this bille hath taken heede, 
Sche rent it al to cloutes atte laste, 
And into the privy softely it cast. 

Who studieth now but faire freissche May ? 
Adoun by olde January sche lay, 9830 

That slepith, til that the coughe hath him awaked ; 
Anoon he prayde stripen hir al naked. 
He wold of hir, he sayd, have some plesaunce ; 
Hir clothis dede him, he sayde, som grevaunce. 
And sche obeieth, be hir lief or loth. 
But lest that precious folk be with me wroth, 

9817. he kidde. The Harl. Ms. reads here and in the following line, 

if that this tliinvi discovered be, 

This purs in hii- borfom hud hath sche. 

But I prefer the reading here adopted frcin the Lansd. Ms., on account of 
the repetition of rhymes in the other reading. 



280 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

How that he wroughte I dar not telle, 

Or whethir it seined him paradys or helle j 

But here I lete hem werken in her wise 

Til evensong rong, and than thay most arise. 9840 

Whethir it be by desteny or adventure, 
Were it by influence, or by nature, 
Or by constellacioun, that in such estate 
The heven stood that tjnne fortunate, 
As for to putte a bille of Venus werkis 
(For alle thing hath tyme, as seyn these clerkis) 
To eny womnian for to gete hir love, 
I can not say, but grete God above. 
That knowith that noon acte is causeles. 
He deme of al, for I wil holde my pees. 9850 

But soth is this, how that this freisshe May 
Hath take such impressioun that day, 
Of pite on this sike Damyan, 
That from hir herte sche ne dryve can 
The remembraunce for to doon him ease. 
** Certeyn," thought sche, " whom that this thing dis- 
please 
I rekke not, for her I him assure. 
To love him best of eny creature. 
Though he no more hadde than his scherte.'* 
Lo, pite renneth soone in gentil herte. 9860 

Heer may ye see, how excellent fraunchise 
In womman is whan thay narow hem avyse. 
Som tyraunt is, as ther ben many oon. 
That hath an hert as hard as is a stoon. 
Which wold han lete sterven in the place 
Wei rather than han graunted him her grace j 
And hem rejoysen in her cruel pride, 
And rekken nought to ben an homicide. 

This gentil May, fulfillid of pite, 
Right of hir bond a letter maked sche, 9870 

In which sche grauntith him hir verray grace ; 
Ther lakkid nought but oonly day and place, 
Wher that sche might unto his lust sufiBse ) 
For it schal be, right as he wol devyse. 
And whan sche saugh hir tyme upon a day 
To visite this Damyan goth May 
And subtilly this lettre doun sche thruste 
Under his pylow, rede it if him luste. 
Sche takitli him by the hond, and hard him twiste 
So secrely, that no wight of it wiste, 9880 

And bad him be al hool, and forth sche wente 
To January, whan that he for hir sente. 



THE MARCHAUNDES TALE. 2^1 

Up ryseth Damyan the nexte iiiorwe, 
Al passed was his Jkiies and his sorwe. 
. He kembith hiui, he pruneth him and pyketh, 
He doth al that unto his lady hkith ; 
And eek to January he goth as lowe 
As ever did a dogge for the bowe. 
He is so plesaunt unto every man, 

(For craft is al, who so that do it can) 9890 

That every wight is fayn to speke him good ; 
And fully in his ladys grace he stood. 
Thus lete 1 Damyan about his neede, 
And in uiy tale forth I wol procede. 

Some clerkes liolden that felicito 
Stant in delit, and therfor certeyn he 
This noble January, with al his might 
In honest wise as longith to a knight, 
Schop him to lyve ful deliciously. 

His housyng, his array, as honestly 9900 

To his degre was maked as a kynges. ^ 
Amonges other of his honest thinges 
He had a gardyn walled al with stoon, 
So fair a gardyn wot I no wher noon. 
For out of doute I verrely suppose, 
That he that wroot the iiomauns of the Rose, 
Ne couthe of it the beaute wel devyse ; 
Ne Priapus ne might not wel suffice. 
Though he be god of gardyns, for to telle 
The beaute of the gardyn, and the welle, 9910 

That stood under a laurer alway greene. 
Ful ofte tyme he Pluto and his queene 
Preserpina, and al the fayerie, 
Desporten hem and maken melodye 
A-boute that welle, and daunced, as men tolde. 
This noble knight, this January the olde, 
Such deynte hath in it to walk and pleye, 
That he wold no wight suH're here the keye, 
Save he himself, for of the smale wyket 
lie bar alway of silver a smal cliket, 9920 

With w^hich whan that him list he it unschette. 
And whan he wolde pay his wyf hir dette 
in tjomer sesoun, thider wold he go, 
And May his w^yf, and no wight but thay tuo ; 
And thinges which that weren not doon in bedde, 

9888. a doggefor the bowt. A clog used in shooting. Conf. 1. 6951. 

9006. Iiomauns of the llosa. The Romance of the Hose opens with the tie- 
Bcription of a niagnilicent garden, which was looked upou by eutoequeBt 
writers a^ the highest perfection oi sucli descriptioiiti. 



282 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

He in the gardyn parformed hem and spedde 

And in this wise many a mery day 

Lyved this January and freische May ; 

But worldly joye may not alway endure 

To January, ne to no creature. 9930 

O sodeyn hap ! o thou fortune unstable ! 
Lyk to the scorpioun so desceyvable, 
That flaterest with thin heed whan thou wilt stynge ; 
Thy tayl is deth, thurgh thin envenymynge. 
O britel joye ! o sweete venym queynte ! 
O monster, that so subtily canst peynte 
Thyn giftes, under hew of stedfastnesse, 
That thou desceyvest bothe more and lesse ! 
Why hastow January thus deceyved, 
That haddist him for thy fuUe frend recey ved ? 9940 
And now thou hast byreft him bothe his yen, 
For sorw of which desireth he to dyen. 
Alias ! this noble January fre, 
Amyd his lust and his prosperite 
Is woxe blynd, and that al sodeynly. 
He wepith and he weyleth pitously ; 
And therwithal, the fuyr of jelousye 
(Lest that his wif schuld falle in some folye) 
So brent his herte that he wolde fayn 
That som man bothe hir and him had slayn ; 9950 

For neyther after his deth, nor in his lyf, 
Ne wold he that sche were love ne wyf, 
But ever lyve as wydow in clothes blake. 
Soul as the turtil that lost hath hir make. 
But atte last, after a moneth or tweye, 
His sorwe gan aswage, soth to seye. 
For whan he wist it may noon other be, 
He paciently took his adversite ; 
Save out of doute he may not forgoon, 
That he nas jalous evermore in oon ; 9960 

Which jalousie it was so outrageous, 
That neyther in halle, ne in noon other lious, 
Ne in noon other place never the mo 
He nolde sutire hir to ryde or go, 
But if that he had hond on hir alway. 
For which ful ofte wepeth freische May, 
That loveth Damyan so benignely, 
That sche moot outher deyen sodeinly, 
Or elles sche moot han him as hir lest ; 
She waytith whan hir herte woulde brest. 9970 

Upon that other syde Damyan 
Bicomen is the sorwfulleste man 



THE MABCHAUNDES TALE. li^3 



That ever was, for neythor night ne day 

Ne might he speke a word to fressche May, 

As to his purpos, of no such matiere, 

But if that January most it heere, 

That had an hond upon hir evermo. 

But natheles, by writyng to and fro, 

And prive signes, wist he what sche ment, 

And sche knew eek the fyn of his enteiit, 9980 

O January, what might it thee availe, 
If thou might see as fer as schippes saile ? 
For as good is blynd deceyved be. 
As to be deceyved whan a man may see. 
Lo, Argus, which that had an hundred eyen. 
For al that ever he couthe poure or prien, 
Yet was he blent, as, God wot, so ben moo, 
That weneth wisly that it be nought so ; 
Passe over is an ease, I say no more. 
This freissche May, that I spak of so yore, 9990 

In warm wex hath emprynted the cliket, 
That January bar of the smale wiket. 
By which into his gardyn ofte he went, 
And Damyan that knew al hir entent 
The cliket counterfeted prively ; 
Ther nys no more to say, but hastily 
Som wonder by this cliket schal betyde, 
Which ye schal heeren, if ye wol abyde. 

O noble Ovyde, wel soth saistow, (iot woot, 
What sleight is it though it be long and hoot, 10000 
That he nyl fynd it out in some manere ? 
By Piramus and Thesbe may men leere ; 
Though thay were kept ful longe streyt over al, 
Thay ben accorded, rowmmg thurgh a wal, 
Ther no wight couthe han found out swich a sleigbt. 
For now to purpos ; er that dayes eyght 
Were passed of the moneth of Juyl, bifllle 
That January hath caught so gret a wille, 
Thorugh eggyng of his wyf, him for to pleye 
In his gardyn, and no wight but they tweye, 10010 

That in a morwe unto this May saithe he : 
" Rys up, niy wif, my love, my lady fre ; 
The turtlis vois is herd, my douve swete ; 
The wynter is goon, with his raynes wete. 
Come forth now with thin eyghen columbine. 
How fairer ben thy brestes than is the wyne. 

10000. though it. Tyrwkitt readfl ^Z' icwe, againet Uie autliujily of the best 



284 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



The gardyn is enclosed al aboute ; 

Com forth, my swete spouse, out of doute, 

Thow hast me wounded in myn hert, o wyf ; 

No spot in the knew I in al my lif. 10020 

Com forth, and let us take oure desport, 

1 ches the for my wyf and my comfort." 

Such olde lewed wordes used he. 

On Damyan a signe made sche, 

That he schuld go biforn with his cliket. 

This Damyan than hath opened the wiket, 

And in he stert, and that in such manere, 

That no wight it mighte see nor heere. 

And stille he seet under a bussch. Anoon 

This January, as blynd as is a stoon, 10030 

With Mayus in his hond, and no wight mo, 

Into this freische gardyn is ago, 

And clappid to the wiket sodeinly. 

•' Now, wyf," quod he, " her nys but ye and I, 

Thou art the creature that I best love ; 

For by that lord that sit in heven above, 

Lever ich had to dyen on a knyf, 

Than the offende, deere trewe wyf. 

For Goddes sake, thenk how I the chees, 

Nought for no coveytise douteles, 10040 

But oonly for the love I had to the. 

And though that I be old and may not se, 

Beeth trewe to me, and I wol telle yow why ; 

Thre thinges, certes, schul ye wynne therby ; 

First, love of Crist, and to your self honour, 

And al myn heritage, toun and tour. 

I give it yow, makith chartres as yow leste ; 

This schal ben doon to morw er sonne reste, 

So wisly God my soule bringe to blisse ! 

1 pray yow first in covenaunt ye me kisse. 10050 

And though that I be jalous, wyt me nought ; 

Ye ben so deep emprinted in my thought, 

That whan that I considre your beaute, 

And therwithal the unlikly eelde of me, 

1 may nought, certes, though I schulde dye, 

Forbere to ben out of your companye 

For verray love ; this is withouten doute : 

Now kisse me, wyf, and let us rome aboute." 

This freissche May, whan sche his wordes herde, 

Benignely to January answerde, 10060 

But fii'st and forward sche bigan to wepe : 

*' I have," quod sche, " a soule for to kepe 

As wei as ye, and also myn honour, 



THE MARCHAUNDES TALE. 285 



And of my wifhod thilke tendre fiour, 

Which that I have ensured in your liond, 

Whan that the prest to yow my body bond ; 

Wherfor I wil answer in this manere, 

With the leve of yow, myn owen loid so deere. 

I pray to God that never dawe the day, 

That 1 ne sterve, as foule as wommati may, 10070 

If ever 1 do unto my Ivyn that schanie, 

Or elles I empaire so my name. 

That I be fals ; and if I do that lak, 

Doth strepe me, and put me in a sak, 

And in the nexte ryver do me drenche; 

1 am a gentil womman, and no wenche. 

Why speke ye thus ? but men ben ever untrewe, 

And wommen han reproef of yow ever newe. 

Ye have noon other contenaunce, 1 leve 

But speke to us as of untrust and repreve. 10080 

And with that word sche saugh wher Damyai. 

Sat in the buissh, and coughen sche bigan ; 

And with hir fyngres signes made sche, 

That Damyan schuld clymb upon a tre. 

That charged was with fruyt, and up he went ; 

For verrayly he knew al hir entent, 

And every signe that sche couthe make, 

Wei bet than January hir oughne make. 

For in a letter sche had told him al 

Of this matier, how he worche schal. 10090 

And thus I lete him sitte in the pirie, 

And January and May romynge mirye. 

Bright was the day, and biiew the firmament j 
Phebus hath of gold his stremes doun i-sent 
To g laden every flour with his warmnesse ; 
lie was that tyme in Gemines, as I gesse, 
But litel fro his declinacioun 
Of Canker, Joves exaltacioun. 
And so bifel that brighte morwen tyde, 
That in that gardyn, in the ferther syde, 10100 

Pluto, that is the kyng of fayerye, 
And many a lady in his compaignie 
Folwyng his wif, the queene Preserpina, 
Whiche that he ravesched out of Ethna, 
Whil that sche gadred floures in the mede 
(In Claudian ye may the story rede, 
llow in his grisly carte he hir fette) ; 

M109. Freocrpina. The Harl. Ms. reads, bj eomo error of the scribe^— 

Preserpine, 

Ech aflor other a;: right ae a lyue. 



286 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



This king of fayry than adoun him sette 

Upon a bench of turves freissh and greene, 

And right anoon thus sayd he to his queene : 10110 

" My wyf," quod lie, " ther may no wight say nay, 
Thexperiens so preveth every day, 
The tresoun wliich that womman doth to man. 
Ten hundrid thousand stories tellen I can 
Notable of your untrouth and brutelnesse. 
O Salamon, wys and richest of richesse, 
Pultild of sapiens, and of worldly glorie, 
Ful worthy ben thy wordes to memorie 
To every wight, that wit and resoun can. 
Thus praysith he yit the bounte of man ; 10120 

Among a thousand men yit fond I oon, 
But of alle wommen found I never noon. 
Thus saith the king, that knoweth your wikkednesse ; 
That Jhesus, Jiliiis Sirac, as I gesse, 
Ne spekith of yow but selde reverence. 
A wild fuyr and corrupt pestilence 
So falle upon your bodies yit to night ! 
Ne see ye not this honurable knight ? 
Bycause, alias ! that he is blynd and old. 
His owne man schal make him cokewold. 10130 

Loo, wher he sitt, the lecchour, in the tre. 
Now wol I graunten, of my majeste, 
Unto this olde bliude worthy knight, 
That he schal have agein his eyghen sight, 
Whan that his wyf avoI do him vilonye ; 
Than schal he knowe al her harlotrye, 
Bothe in reproef of her and other mo." 
" Ye schal ?" quod Preserpine, " and wol ye «o? 
Now by my modres Ceres soule I swere. 
That I schal give hir suffisaunt answere, 10140 

And alle wommen after for hir sake ; 
That though thay be in any gult i-take, 
With face bold thay schul hemself excuse, 
And bere hem doun that wolde hem accus- 
For lak of answer, noon of hem schal dyen. 
Al had ye seyn a thing with bother your yen, 
Yit schul we wymmen visage it hardily, 
And wepe and swere and chide subtilly, 

10121. Among a thousand. See Ecclesiastes, vii. 28. 

10139. Ceres. The Haii. ili. reads Sires; the Lanad. jSire. Cere« is of 
course the word intended. 

10146. The Harl. Ma. reads this line,— 

Al bad a man suyii a thing with bothe hia yen. 



THE MARCHAUNDES TALE. 287 



That ye schiil ben as lewed as ben gees, 

What rekkith me of your auctoritees? ' 10150 

I wol wel that this Jew, this Salamon, 

Fond of us wommen fooles many oon ; 

But though he ne fond no good womman, 

Yit hath ther founde many another man 

Wommen ful trewe, ful good, and vertuous ; 

Witnesse on hem that dwelle in Cristes hous. 

With martirdom thay proved hir constaunce. 

The Romayn gestes eek make remembraunce 

Of many a verray trewe wyf also. 

But, sire, be nought wrath, al be it so, 10160 

Though that he sayd he fond no good womman, 

I pray yow tak the sentens of the man ; 

He mente thus, that in sovereign bounty 

Nis noon but God, that sit in Trinite. 

Ey, for verrey God that nys but oon, 

What make ye so moche of Salamon ? 

What though he made a temple, Goddes hous ? 

What though he were riche and glorious ? 

So made he eek a temple of fals godis. 

How might he do a thing that more forbod is ? 10170 

Parde, als fair as ye his name emplastre, 

He was a lecchour and an ydolastre. 

And in his eelde he verray God forsook ; 

And if that God ne hadde (as saith the book) 

I-sjDared him for his fadres sake, he scholde 

Have lost his regne rather than he wolde. 

I sette right nought of the vilonye. 

That ye of wommen write, a boterflie ; 

I am a womman, needes most I speke, 

Or elles swelle tyl myn herte breke. 10189 

For syn he sayd that we ben jangleresses, 

As ever hool t moote brouke my tresses, 

"^ schal not spare for no curtesye 

To speke him harm, that wold us vilonye." 

*' Dame," quod this Pluto, '• be no lenger wroth, 

I give it up : but sith I swore myn oth, 

That I wil graunte him his sight agein. 

My word schal stonde, I warne yow certeyn ; 

I am a kyng, it sit me nought to lye." 

*' And I," quod sche, " am queen of faierie. 10190 

Hir answer schal sche have, I undertake ; 

10158. The Romayn gesies. Tyrwhitt says tliat the allusion is to the popu- 
lar book known as the Gesta Bomanorum. I am inclined, however, to think 
it more probable that the poet had in his eye the examples of Lucretia, Per- 
tia. and inhor ladies celebrated in Konian history. 



S288 TBE Canterbury 



Let us no mo wordes herof make. 
Forsoth I wol no lenger yow contrarie." 

Now let us turne agayn to Januarye, 
That in this gardyn with this faire May 
Syngeth, ful merier than the papinjay, 
" Yow love I best, and schal, and other noon." 
So long about the aleys is he goon, 
Til he was come agaynes thilke pirie, 
Wher as this Damyan sittith ful mirye 10? 00 

On heigh, among the freische levyes greene. 
This freissche May, that is so bright and scheene, 
Gan for to syke, and sayd, " Alias my syde ! 
Now, sir," quod sche, " for aught that may bityde, 
I most han of the peres that I see, 
Or I moot dye, so sore longith me 
To eten of the smale peris greene ; 
Help for hir love that is of heven queene ! 
I telle yow wel a womman in my plyt 
May have to fruyt so gret an appetyt, 10210 

That sche may deyen, but sche it have." 
" Alias ! " quod he, *' that I nad heer a knave 
That couthe climbe, alias ! alias ! " quod he, 
" For I am blynd." " Ye, sire, no fors," quod sche ; 
" But wolde ye vouchesauf, for Goddes sake, 
The piry inwith your arnies for to take, 
(For wel I woot that ye mystruste me) 
Than schold I clymbe wel y-nough," quod sche, 
*' So I my foot might set upon your bak." 
*' Certes," quod he, " theron schal be no lak, 10220 

Might 1 yow helpe with myn herte blood." 
He stoupith doun, and on his bak sche stood, 
And caught hir by a twist, and up sche goth. 
Ladys, I pray yow that ye be not wroth, 
I can not glose, I am a rude man) : 
And sodeinly anoon this Damyan 
Gan pullen up the smok, and in he throng. 

And whan that Pluto saugh this grete wrong, 
To January he gaf agayn his sight 
[And made him see as wel as ever he might. 10230 

And whan he thus had caught his sight again]. 
Ne was ther never man of thing so fayn ; 

10227. In some late MSS., and in the printed editions, several lines of ob- 
scene ribaldry are added here and in the subsequent parts of the taie ; but as 
they are not found in mss. of any authority, Tyrwhitt very properly omitted 
them. It may be observed that there are several other variations in parts of 
tliiii tale in so'me M.ss. which it has not been thought neooHsary to point out. 

11)230. Tliieand tbt following line, given herefrom Tyrwhitt, are notfouud 
In tiia HarJ. Ms. 



THE MARCnAUNDES TALE. 289 

But on his wyf his thought was evermo. 

Up to the tree he kest his evf^hen tuo, 

And seigh that Damyan his wyf had dressid 

In which nianer it raay not ben expressid, 

But if I woldo speke uncurteisly. 

And up he gaf a roryng and a cry, 

As doth tlie nioder whan the child schal dye ; 

" Out ! help ! alias I harrow ! " he gan to crie ; 10240 

" O stronge lady stoure, what dos thow ? "' 

And sche answerith : " Sire, what eyiith yow ? 
Have paciens and resoun in your mynde, 
I have yow liolpen on bothe your eyen blynde. 
Up peril of my soule, I schal not lyen, 
As me was taught to hele with your yen, 
Was nothing bet for to make yow see, 
Than stroggle with a man upon a tree ; 
God woot, I dede it in ful good entent." 
" Stroggle ! " quod he, *' ye, algat in it went. 10250 

God give yow bothe on schames deth to dyen ! 
He swyved the ; I saugh it with myn yen ; 
And elles be I honged by the hals." 
*' Than is," quod sche, " my medicine fals. 
For certeynly, if that ye mighten see, 
Ye wold not say tho wordes unto me. 
Ye han som glymsyng, and no parfyt sight." 
" I se," quod he, '* as wel as ever I might, 
(Thankid be God) with bothe myn yen tuo, 
And by my trouth me thought he did the so." 10260 
*' Ye, mase, mase, goode sir," quod sche ; 
" This thank have I for I have maad yow see ; 
Alias ! " quod sche, " that ever I was so kynde " 
*' Now, dame," quod he, *' let al passe out of mynde ; 
Com douu, my leef, and if I have myssayd, 
God help me so, as I am evel appayd. 
But by my faders soule, I wende have seyn, 
How that this Damyan had by the leyn, 
And that thy smok had layn upon thy brest." 
" Ye, sire," quod sche, "ye may wene as yow lest ; 
But, sire, a man that wakith out of his slep, 10271 

He may not sodeynly wel take keep 
Upon a thing, ne seen it parfytly, 
Til that he be adawed verrayly. 
Right so a man, that long hath blynd i-be, 
He may not sodeynly so wel i-se. 
First whan the sight is newe comen agayn, 
As he that hath a day or tuo i-sayn. 
Til that your sight y-stablid be a while, 
19 



290 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Ther may ful many a sighte yow bigile. 10280 

Beth war, I pray yow, for, by heven king, 
Ful many man wenith for to se a thing, 
And it is al another than it semeth ; 
He that mysconceyveth he mysdemeth." 

And with that word sche leep doun fro the tre. 
This January who is glad but he ? 
He kissith hir, and clippith hir ful ofte, 
And on hir wombe he strokith hir ful softe ; 
And to his paleys hom he hath hir lad. 
Now, goode men, I pray yow to be glad. 10290 

Thus endith her my tale of Januarye, 
God blesse us, and his moder seinte Marie I 

THE SQUYERES PROLOGE. 

*' Ey I Goddes mercy ! " sayd our Hoste the, 
** Now such a wyf I pray God keep me fro. 
Lo, whiche sleightes and subtilitees 
In wommen ben ; for ay as busy as bees 
Ben thay us seely men for to desceyve, 
And from a soth ever wol thay weyve. 
By this Marchaundes tale it proveth wel. 
But douteles, as trewe as eny steel 10300 

I have a wyf, though that sche pore be ; 
But of hir tonge a labbyng schrewe is sche ; 
And yit sche hath an heep of vices mo. 
Therof no fors ; let alle such thinges go. 
But wite ye what ? in counseil be it seyd, 
Me rewith sore I am unto hir teyd ; 
And if I scholde reken every vice. 
Which that sche hath, i-wis I were to nyce ; 
And cause why, it schuld reported be 
And told to hir of som of this meyne, 10310 

(Of whom it needith not for to declare, 

Syn wommen connen oute such chafifare) ; 

And eek my witte suflQsith nought therto 

To tellen al j wherfor my tale is do." 

" Sir Squier, com forth, if that your wille be, 

And say us a tale of love, for certes ye 

Connen theron as moche as ony man." 

"Nay, sire," quod he ; ** but I wil say as I can 

With herty wil, for I wil not rebelle 

Against your wille ; a tale wil I telle, 10320 

Have me excused if that I speke amys ; 

My wil is good ; and thereto my tale is this." 

10316. of love. These two words are omitted in Ms. Harl,, but they BOOm 
necessary for the sense and metre. 



THE SQUYERES TALE. 291 



THE SQUYERES TALE. 

At Sarray, in the lond of Tartary, 

Ther dwelled a kyng that werryed Russy, 

Thurgh which ther deyed many a doughty man ; 

This nobil kyng wascleped Cambynskan, 

Which in his tyme was of so gret renoun, 

That ther nas nowher in no regioun 

So excellent a lord in alle thing ; 

Him lakked nought that longed to a kyng, 10330 

As of the secte of which that he was born. 

He kept his lawe to which he was sworn, 

And therto he was hardy, wys, and riche, . 

And pitous and just, and alway y-liche, 

Soth of his word, benign and honurable ; 

Of his corage as eny centre stable ; 

Yong, freisch, and strong, in armes desirous 

As eny bachiler of al his hous. 

A fair person he was, and fortunat, 

And kepte so wel his real astat, 10340 

That ther was nowher such a ryal man. 

This noble kyng, this Tartre, this Cambynskan, 

Hadde tuo sones by Eltheta his wyf. 

Of which the eldest highte Algarsyf, 

That other was i-cleped Camballo. 

A dough ter had this worthi king also. 

That yongest was, and highte Canace ; 

But for to telle yow al hir beaute, 

It lith not on my tonge, ne my connyng, 

I dar nought undertake so heigh a thing ; 10350 

Myn Englissh eek is insufficient. 

It moste be a rethor excellent 

The Squyeres Tale. It ia unknown at present from what source Chaucer 
derived tnis tale, which is not found (as far ae I am aware) in any other form 
In the literature of the Middle Ages. It is to be regretted that Chaucer left 
it unfinished. It may be observetl that throughout the tale the name of the 
Tartar king is Cambynskan, in the Ms. llarl- as well as in the Lansdowne and 
oUier MSS. It is almost with regret that we give up the form of the nam© 
rendered classic by Milton,— 

Or call up him that left half told 
The story of Cambuscan bold, 
Of Camball, and of Algarsife, 
And who had Canace to wife, 
That own'd the virtuous ring of glas ; 
And of the wond'rous horse of bras 
On which tlie Tartar king did ride. 

(// Pcnseroso.) 
10324. Russy. The Tartars and Russians were constantly engaged in h08- 
tilities with each other from the thirteenth to the sixteenth centuries. 

10344. Algarsyf. The Harl. Ms. reads Algaryf, and in the next line Sani' 
hallo for Camballo, which are probably mere errors of the scribe. 



292 



rnE CANTERBURY TALES. 



That couth his colours longyng for that art, 
If he schold hir discry ve in eny part ; 
I am non such, I mot speke as 1 can. 

And so bifel it, that this Cambynskan 
Hath twenty wynter born his dyademe; 
As he was wont fro yer to yer, I deme, 
He leet the fest of his nativite 

Don cryen, thurghout Sarray his cite, 10360 

The last Idus of March, after the yeer. 
Phebus the sonne was joly and cleer, 
For he was neigh his exaltacioun 
In Martes race, and in liis mansioun 
In Aries, the colerik, the liote signe. 
Ful lusty was the wedir and benigne, 
For which the foules agein the sonne scheene, 
What for tlie sesoun and for the yonge greene, 
Ful lowde song in here affecciouns ; 
Hem sen^ied have geten hem'protecciouns 10370 

Agens the swerd of wynter kene and cold. 
This Cambynskan, of which I have told, 
In royal vesture, sittyng on kis deys 
With dyadem, ful heigh in his paleys ; 
And held his fest solempne and so riche, 
That ill this Avorlde was there noon it liche. 
Of which if I schal tellen al tharray, 
Than wold it occupie a someres day ; 
And eek it needith nought for todevyse 
At every cours the ordre and the servyse. 10380 

1 wol not tellen of her straunge sewes, 
Ne of her swannes, ne here heroun-sewes. 
Ek in that lond, as tellen knightes olde, 
Ther is som mete that is ful deynte holde, 
That in this lond men recch of it but smal ; 
Ther is no man it may reporten al, 
I wol not tarien you, for it is pryme. 
And for it is no fruyt, but los of tjone, 
Unto my purpos 1 wol have my recours. 
That so'bifelle after the thridde cours, 10390 

Whil that this kyng sit thus in his nobleye, 
Herkyng his mynstrales her thinges pleye 
Byforne him atte boord deliciously, 
in atte halle dore al sodeynly 

10382. swannes . . . heroun-seioes. It le hardly necessary to observe that 
swans were foiineriy eaten at table^ and considered among the choicest ornsr 
merits of the festive board. Tyrwhitt informs us that at tile inthronization of 
Archbp. ISevi), 6 Edward J V., there were " heroitshaives in . c." {Lela/nd, Col- 
lect, vol. vi. 2), au<l that at another feast in 1530, we read o' " 16 hearonsewg. 
every one 12d." (^I^tck'a JDts. Cur. vol. ii. 12.) 



THE SQUYERES TALE. 293 



Ther com a knight upon a steed of bras, 

And in his hond a brod myronr of gclas ; 

Upon his thomb he had of gold a ryng, 

And by his side a naked swerd hangyng : 

And up he rideth to the heyghe bord. 

In al the halle ne was ther spoke a word, 10400 

For mervayl of this knight ; him to byholde 

Ful besily they wayten yong and olde. 

This straunge knight that cam thus sodeynly, 
Al armed sauf his heed ful richely, 
Salued the kyng and queen, and loi*des alle 
By ordre, as they seten into halle, 
With so heigh reverens and observaunce, 
As wel in speche as is contynaunce, 
That Gaweyn with his olde curtesye, 
They he were oome agein out of fayrye, 10410 

Ne couthe him nought amende with no word. 
And after this, biforn the highe bord 
He with a manly vols sayd this message, 
After the forme used in his langage, 
Withouten vice of sillabil or letter. 
And for his tale schulde seme the better, 
Accordaunt to his wordes was his cheere, 
As techeth art of speche hem that it leere. 
Al be it that 1 can nat sowne his style, 
Ne can nat clymben over so heigh a style, 10420 

Yit say I this, as to comun entent. 
Thus moche amounteth al that ever he ment. 
If it so be that I have it in mynde. 

He sayd : '' The kyng of Arraby and of Ynde, 
My liege lord, on this solempne day 
Saluteth you as he best can or may. 
And sendeth you, in honour of your feste, 
By me, that am redy at al his heste, 
This steede of bras, that esily and wel 
Can in the space of o day naturel, 10430 

(This is to say, in four and twenty houres) 
Wher so yow lust, in droughthe or in schoures, 
Beren your body into every place, 
To which your herte wilneth for to pace, 
Withouten w^em of you, thurgh foul and fair. 
Or if you lust to flee as heigh in thair 
As doth an egle, whan him list to sore. 
This same steede schal bere you evermore 
Withoute harm, til ye be ther yow leste, 

10409. Gaweyn. Tlie Hail. Ms. reads Ewtn. Gaweyji waa celebrated in 
naedieval louia'nce as the uioel courteous of Arthur's kiiights. 



M THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Though that ye slepen on his bak or reste), 10440 

And torne a^ein, with wry thing of a pyn. 

He that it wrought, he cowthe many a gyn ; 

He wayted many a constellacioun, 

Er he had do this operacioun, 

And knew ful many a seal and many a bond. 

" This mirour eek, that I have in myn hond, 
Hath such a mighte, that men may in it see 
When ther schal falle eny adversite 
Unto your regne, or to your self also, 
And openly, who is your frend or fo. 10450 

And over al this, if eny lady bright 
Hath set her hert on eny maner wight, 
If he be fals, sche schal his tresoun see, 
His newe love, and his subtilite, 
So op>enly, that ther schal nothing hyde. 
Wherfor ageins this lusty somer tyde 
This mirour a,nd this ryng, that ye may see, 
He hath send to my lady Canacee, 
Your excellente doughter that is heere. 

"The vertu of this ryng, if ye wol heere, 10460 

Is this, that who so lust it for to were 
Upon hir thorn b, or in hir purs to here, 
Ther is no foul that fleeth under the heven, 
That sche ne schal understonden his steven. 
And know his menyng openly and pleyn, 
And answer him in his langage ageyn ; 
And every gras that groweth upon roote 
Sche schal eek know, to whom it wol do boote, 
Al be his woundes never so deep and wyde. 10469 

" This naked swerd, that hangeth by my sydo, 
Such vertu hath, that what man that it smyte, 
Thurghout his armur it wol kerve and byte, 
Were it as thikke as a braunched ook ', 
And what man is i- wounded with the strook 
Schal never be hool, til that you lust of grace 
To strok him with the plat in thilke place 
Ther he is hurt ; this is as much to seyn. 
Ye moote with the platte swerd agein 
Stroke hnn in the wound, and it wol close. 
This is the verray soth withouten glose, 10480 

10445. seal. The making and arrangement of sealp was one of the impor- 
tant operations of medieral magic, and treatises on this subject are found in 
manuscripts. One of these was believc-d to have been compiled by the chil- 
dren of Israel in the desert. A copy c 1" this is found in Ms. Arundel, No. 
295. fol. 265, which commences with the statement: "In nomine Domini. 
Incipit. liber preciosus et secretus sigillorum quern fecerunt tilii Isxael in 
doB3rto secundum motup et cursus sideruiu." &c. 



THE SQUYERES TALE. L^95 



It failleth nought, whil it is in your hold." 
And whan this knight thus had his tale told, 

He rit out of the halle, and doun he light. 

His steede, which that schon as sonne bright, 

Stant in the court as stille as eny stoon. 

This knight is to his chambre lad anoon, 

And is unarmed, and to nietc i-sett. 

This presentz ben ful richely i-fett, 

This is to sayn, the swerd and the myrrour, 

And born anon unto the highe tour, 1049U 

With certein officers ordeynd therfore ; 

And unto Canace the ryng is bore 

Solenipnely, ther sche syt atte table , 

But sikerly, withouten eny fable, 

The hors of bras, that may nat be remewed. 

It stant, as it were to the ground i-glewed ; 

Ther may no man out of the place it dryve 

For noon engyn of wyndas or poly ve ; 

And cause why, for they can nought the craft, 

And therfor in the place thei have it laft, 10500 

Til that the knight hath taught hem the manere 

To voyden him, as ye schul after heere. 

Greet was the pres that swarmed to and fro 

To gauren on this hors that stondeth so ; 

For it so high was, and so brod and long, 

So wel proporcioned to be strong, 

Right as it were a steed of Lumbardye ; 

Therto so horsly, and so quyk of ye, 

As if a gentil Poyleys courser were ; 

For certes, fro his tayl unto his eere 10510 

Nature ne art ne couthe him noughte amende 

In no degre, as al the poepel wende. 

But evermore her moste wonder was. 

How that it couthe goon, and was of bras ; 

It was of fayry, as the poeple semed. 

Diverse peple diversly they demed ; 

As many hedes, as many wittes been. 

They murmured, as doth a swarm of been, 

10498. wyndas. The Harl. Ms. reads wyndyng. 

10505. high. Tlie Harl. Ms. reads royd. 

10509. a gentil J'oyleys courser. " A horse of Apulia, which in old French 
was usually called Poille- The horses of Uiat country were much esteemed. 
Ms. hod. James VI. 142. Richard, Archbp. of Armagh, iii thu fourtct-iilli 
century, says, in praise of our St. Thomas, ' quod nee mulus Hisp;uji:f . ntc 
til xtrarius Apuliie, nee repedo iEthiopia3, nee elepliaiilus Asi:i', nee Camclus 
Svrije hoc asino nostro Angli;« aptior sive audenliur invenitur ad [)nRlia.' 
lit- had before informed his audience, that Thomas, Anglice, idem f-st (juod 
Tham Asinus. There is a patent in Ryrner, 2 E. II. Ue Dextrariis in Lumbar- 
tjiit •iiu:ndis.'^—Tyrwitt, 



296 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And made skiles after her fantasies, 

Rehersyng of the olde poetries, 10520 

And seyden it was i-Hke the Pagase, 

The hors that hadde wynges for to fle, 

Or elles it was the Grekissch hors Synon, 

That broughte Troye to destruccioun, 

As men may in the olde gestes rede. 

** Myn hert," quod oon, " is evermore in drede, 

I trow som men of armes ben therinne, 

That schapen hem this cite for to wynne ; 

Jt were good that such thing were knowe." 

Another rowned to his felaw lowe, 10530 

And sayde : " It lyth, for it is rather lik 

An apparence maad by som magik, 

As jogelours pleyen at this festes grete." 

Of sondry thoughtes thus tliey jangle and trete. 

As lewed peple demeth comunly 

Of thinges that ben maad more subtily 

Than they can in her lewednes comprehende, 

They deemen gladly to the badder ende. 

And som of hem wondred on the mirrour, 

That born was up into the maister tour, 10540 

How men might in it suche thinges se. 

Another answerd, and sayd, it might wel be 

Naturelly by composiciouns 

Of angels, and of heigh reflexiouns ; 

And sayde that in Rome was such oon. 

They speeke of Alhazen and Vitilyon, 

And Aristotle, that writen in her lyves 

Of queynte myrrours and prospectyves. 

As knowen they that han her bokes herd. 

And other folk have wondred on the swerd, 10550 

That wolde passe thorughout every thing ; 

And fel in speche of Telophus the kyng. 

And of Achilles for his queynte spere, 

For he couthe with it bothe hele and dere, 

10521. the Pagasi, i. e. Pagasus. In the margin of the Harl. Ms. it is ex- 
plained in Latin, i. equus pegaseus. 

10523. Synon. Sinon, according to Grecian story, was the maker of the 
wooden horse by means of which Troy was finally taken. 

10544. heigh. Other mss., with Tyrwhitt, read sli/h^, or sleigh, sly. 

10545. in Borne. The erection of this mirror was one of the feats of the 
legendary Virgil, and wiD be found described in the early English poem of 
the Seve7i Sages. 

10546. Alhazen and Vitilymi. The Harl. Ms. reads Alceyt for Alhazen, and 
the Lansd. Ms. Alocen. " Alhazeni et Vitellonis OpiiccB are extant, printed at 
Basil, 1572. The first is supposed by his editor to have lived about a.d. 1100, 
and tlie second in a.d. 1210."— Tyrwhitt. 

10552. Telophus. Telephus, king of aiysia, in attempting to hinder the 
GxeekB from marching through his country against Troy, was wounded by 



THE SQUYEREiS TALE. 



297 



Right in such wise as men may with the swerd, 

Of which right now ye have your selven herd. 

They speeken of sondry hardyng of metal. 

And speken of medicines therwithal, 

And how and whan it schulde harded be, 

Which is unknowe algat unto me. 10560 

Tho speeken tliey of Canacees ryng, 

And seyden alle, that such a wonder thing 

Of craft of rynges herd they never noon, 

Sauf that he Moyses and kyng Salamon 

Hadden a name of connyng in such art. 

Thus seyen the peple, and drawen hem apart. 

But natheles som seiden that it was 

Wonder thing to make of feme aisschen glas, 

And yit is glas nought hke aisschen of feme, 

But for they han i-knowen it so feme ; 10570 

Therfor cesseth her janglyng and her wonder. 

As sore wondred som of cause of thonder, 

On ebbe and Hood, on gossomer, and on myst, 

And on alle thing, til that cause is wist. 

Thus janglen they, and demen and devyse, 

Til that tiie kyng gan fro his bord arise. 

Phebus hatii left the angel merydyonal, 
And yit ascendyng was a best roial, 
Tlie gentil Lyoun, with his Aldryan, 
Whan that this gentil kyng, this Cambynskan, lOobO 
Ros fro his bord, ther as he sat ful hye ; 
Biforn him goth ful lowde menstralcye, 
Til he cam to his chambre of parementz, 

Aciiilles, and was informed by the oracle that his wound could only be cured 
by being touched by the spear which had made it. Whence Propertius says,— 
Mysus et Hiemouii juvenis qui cuspide vulnus 
Senserat, hoc ipsa cuspide sensit opem. 
And Ovid,— 

Telephus seterna consumptus tabe perisset, 
Si non quse nocuit dextra tulisset opem. 
10564. Mosyes and kyng Salamon. These personages, especially the latter, 
Lad a high reputation (derived apparently from the Arabs) in the Middle 
Ages for their skill in magic. 

lU5ti6. and drawen hem apart. The Harl. Ma. reads, the pcple on every 
part. 

10577. le/i. The Harl. Ms. reads lost. This Mb. has in several instances 
lost for It/t, and vice versa. 

10579. Aldryan. The Harl Ms. reads Adryan. 

10583. calamine <>/ parementz. " Ctiambre de pavement is translated by 
Cotgrave, ibe i)resc;nce chamljer ; and Lit de pavement , a bed of state. Pave- 
ments originally sigmlied all sorts oi ornamental furniture, or clothes, from 
purer, Fr. to adorn. See ver. 2503. and Leg. of G. W. Dido, ver. 181. 
To daunciug chambres ful of parementes, 
Of ricbe beddes and of pavementes. 
This Eiieas is ledde after th< mete. 
The Italians have the same expret-biuii. Ist. d. Cone Trident. 1. iii. il Pen- 
t«tic6— ritornato alia camcrc. de' pannenti co' CaTdm&\i."—Tyrwhitt. 



iiy« 



THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Ther as ther were divers instramentz, 
That is y-]ike an heven for to heere. 

Now dauncen lusty Venus children deere ; 
For in the fissch her lady sat ful heyghe, 
And loketh on hem with a frendly eyghe. 
This noble kyng is set upon his trone ; 
This straunge knight is fet to him ful sone, 10590 

And in the daunce he gan with Canace. 
Her is the revel and the jolyte, 
That is not able a dul man to devyse ; 
He most have knowe love and his servise, 
And ben a festly man, as freisch as May, 
That schulde you devyse such array. 
Who couthe telle you the forme of daunce 
So uncouth, and so freische countinaunce, 
Such subtil lokyng of dissimilynges, 
For drede of jalous folk apparcey vynges ? 10600 

No man but Launcolet, and he is deed. 
Therfore I passe over al this lustyheed. 
I say no more, but in this jolynesse 
I lete hem, til men to soper hem dresse. 
The styward byt the spices for to hye 
And eek the wyn, in al this melodye ; 
Thes usschers and thes squyers ben agon, 
The spices and the wyn is come anoon ; 
They eet and drank, and whan this had an ende, 
Unto the temple, as resoun was, they wende ; 10610 
The servise doon, they soupen al by day. 
What needeth you to rehersen her array ? 
Ech man wot wel, that a kynges feste 
Hath plente, to the lest and to the meste, 
And deyntees mo than ben in my knowyng. 
At after souper goth this noble kyng 
To see this hors of bras, with al hi§ route 
Of lordes and of ladyes him aboute. 
Swich wondryng was ther on this hors of bras. 
That seth this grete siege of Troye was, 10620 

Ther as men wondrid on an hors also, 
Ne was ther such a wondryng as was tho. 
But fynally the kyng asked the knight 
The vertu of this courser, and the might, 
And prayd him tellen of his governaunce. 
The hors anoon .gan for to trippe and daunce, 
Whan that the knight leyd hand upon his rayne, 

10587. in the fissch, i. e. in the zodiacal sign pisces. See before, the note on 
J- 6284. 




And sayde, " Sir, thcr is noniore to sayne, 

But whan you lust to ryde any where, 

Ye nioote trille a pyn, stant in his ere, 10630 

Which I schal telle you betwen us two, 

Ye moste nempne him to what place also, 

Or what countre you luste for to ryde. 

And whan ye come ther you lust abyde. 

Bid him descende, and trille another pynne, 

(For therin lith theffet of al the gynne) 

And he wol doun descend and do your wille, 

And in that place he wol abyde stille ; 

Though al the world had the contrary swore. 

He schal nat thennes be i-throwe ne bore. 10640 

Or if you lust to bid him thennes goon, 

Trille this pyn, and he wol vanyssh anoon 

Out of the sight of every maner wight, 

And come agein, be it by day or night. 

Whan that you lust to clepen him agayn 

In such a gyse, as I schal yow sayn 

Betwixe you and me, and therfor soone, 

Byd whan you lust, ther nys nomor to doone." 

Enformed whan the kyng was of the knight, 

And had conceyved in his wit aright 10650 

The maner and the forme of al this thing, 

Ful glad and blith, this noble doughty kyng 

Repeyryng to his revel, as biforn, 

The bridel is unto the tour i-born, 

And kept among his jewels leef and deere ; 

The hors vanyscht, I not in what manere, 

Out of her sight, ye get nomore of me ; 

But thus I lete him in his jolite 

This Cambinskan his lordes festeyng, 

Til wel neigh the day bigan to spryng, 10660 

Incipit secunda pars. 

The norice of digestioun, the sleep, | 

Gan to him wynk, and bad of him take keep, 
That moche mete and labour wol have his rest, 
And with a galpyng mouth hem alle he keste. 
And sayd, that it was tyme to lye doun, 

10663. moche mete. This reading is taken from the Lansd. Mb. TJie Harl. 
Mc. liaa that mirthe and labour, the word merthe being perhaps a misreading 
for mete Tyrwhitt reads moc/iel drinke, and observes, — "So Mas. (J. 1 
HA. in Ms. A. it is, Tltat mirthe and labour, in Ask. 1. 2. Thog cfU-r moche 
labour. In several other mss. and editt. C. 1. 2, That mvclie m^te and labour. 
We mubt Bearcb further, I apprehend, for the true meaning." 



soo 



THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



For blood was in his dominacioun : 

" Cherischeth blood, natures frend," quod he. 

They thankyn him galpyng, by two and thre ; 

And every wight gan drawe him to his rest, 

As sleep hem bad, they took it for the best. 10870 

Here dremes schul not now be told for me ; 

Ful were here heedes of f umosite, 

That causeth drem, of which ther is no charge. 

They sleepen til it was prime large. 

The moste part, but it were Canace ; 

Sohe was ful mesurable, as wommen be. 

For of hir fader had sche take hir leva 

To go to reste, soon after it was eve ; 

Hir luste not appalled for to be, 

Ne on the morwe unfestly for to se ; 10680 

And kept hir firste sleep, and then awook. 

For such a joye sche in hir herte took, 

Bothe of hir queynte ryng, and hir myrrour 

That twenty tyme chaunged hire colour ; 

And in hire sleep, right for the impressioun 

Of hir myrrour, sche had a vision n. 

Wherfor, or that the Sonne up gan glyde, 

Sche cleped upon hir maistresse beside. 

And sayde, that hire luste for to ryse. 

These olde wommen, that ben gladly wyse, 10690 

As is here maystresse, answered her anoon, 

And sayd, *' Madame, whider wold ve goon 

Thus erly ? for folk ben alle in rested' 

*' I wil," quod sche, " aryse, for me leste 

Ne lenger for to slepe, and walke aboute." 

Hir maistres clepeth wommen a gret route, 

And up they risen, a ten other a twelve. 

Up ryseth fresshe Canace hir selve, 

As rody and bright, as is the yonge sonne 

That in the ram is ten degrees i-ronne ; 10700 

No heiher was he, whan sche redy was ; 

And forth sche walked esily a pas, 

Arayed after the lusty sesoun soote 

Lightly for to play, and walke on foote, 

Nought but with fy ve or six of hir meyne ; 

And in a trench fer in the park goth sche. 

The vapour, which that of the erthe glod, 

10666. blood. According to the old physicians, blood was in domination 
duriTig the latter part of the nielit and the earlier part of the day. Trvwhitt 

a notes from the lib. CJaleno aJscr. de natnxa, &c., torn. v. p. 327 : Sanguis 
ominatur horis septem ab hora noctis nona ad horam diei tertiam. 
10700. ten. This is the reading of the Harl. and Lansd. Mss. Tyrwhitt 
reads, /cure degrees. 



THE SQUYEhL:^ lALE. 801 



Maketh the sonne seme rody and brod ; 

But natheles, it was so fair a sight, 

That it made alle here hertes for to Hght, 10710 

What for the sesoun, what for the mornyng 

And for the foules that sche herde syng. 

For right anoon sche wiste what they ment 

Right by here song, and knew al here entent. 

The knotte, why that every tale is told, 
If that it be taryed til lust be cold 
(3f hem that ban it after herkned yore, 
The savour passeth ever lenger the more. 
For fnlsomnes of the prolixite ; 

And by this same resoun thinketh me , 10720 

I schulde to the knotte condescende, 
And make of hir walkynge sone an ende. 

Amyddes a tree for-druye, as whit as chalk, 
As Canace was pleyyng in hir walk, 
There sat a faukoun over hir heed ful hye, 
That with a pitoas vols bigan to crye. 
That al the woode resowned of hire cry, 
And beten hadde sche hir self so pitously 
With bothe hir wynges, to the reede blood 
Ran endelong the tree, ther as sche stood. 107S0 

And ever in oon sche cried and sche schryght, 
And with hir bek hir selve so sche pight, 
That ther nys tigre non ne cruel beste, 
Tha^ dwelleth eyther in wood, or in foreste, 
That nold ban wept, if that he wepen cowde, 
For sorw of hir, sche schright alwey so lowde. 
For ther nas never yit no man on lyve, 
If that he couthe a faukoun wel discrive, 
That herd of such another of fairnesse 
As wel of plumage, as of gentillesse 10740 

Of schap, of al that might i-rekened be. 
A faukoun peregryn than semed sche 
Of frenide lond ; and ever as sche stood, 
Sche swowned now and now for lak of blood, 
Til wel neigh is sche fallen fro the tre. 
This faire kynges doughter, Canace, 
That on hir fynger bar the queynte ryng, 
Thurgh which sche understood wel every thing 
That eny foul may in his lydne sayn, 

10742. a faukoun peregryn. " This species of falcon Is thus de8crib<Mi in 
the Trcsor de Brunei LcUin, p. i. ch. Dts Fatictnis, IVls- Beg. 19, (;. x. • Ia 
Bcconde lignie esi faucLriui, que hom apele pelerint, par ce quenuB iie irove 
Bon III. ains eat pris autresi cuiue en pelerinage, et est mult legiera a iiurrir. et 
mult rortuis, el vaillans. ot de tons maniere.' Chaucer adds, that this laicou 
watt ol/rtmdt, or/remea, loiui-> from a/oreign country."— Tyrwhitt. 



802 THE CANTERBURY TALES, 



And couthe aniswer him in his lydne agayn, 10750 

Hath understoiide what this faukoun seyde, 

And wel neigh almost for the rewthe sche deyde. 

And to the tree sche got ful hastily, 

And on the faukoun loketh pitously, 

And held hir lappe abrod, for wel sche wist 

The faukoun moste falle fro the twist, 

Whan that she swowned next, for lak of blood. 

A long while to wayten hir sche stood. 

Til atte last sche spak in this manere 

Unto the bank, as ye schul after heere. 10760 

*' What is the cause, if it be for to telle. 

That ye ben in that furyalle peyne of helle ? " 

Quod Canace unto this hauk above; 

" Is this for sorwe of deth, or elles love ? 

For as I trowe, this ben causes tuo 

That causen most a gentil herte wo. 

Of other harm it needeth nought to speke, 

For ye your self upon your self awreke ; 

Which preveth wel, that either ire or drede 

Mote ben enchesoun of your cruel dede, 10770 

Sith that I see noon other wight you chace. 

For love of God, so doth your selve grace. 

Or what may ben your helpe ? for west ner est 

Ne saugh I never er now no bryd ne beste, 

That ferde M'ith him self so pitously. 

Ye sle me with your sorwe so verrily, 

I have of you so gret compassioun. 

For Goddes love, come fro the tree adoun ; 

And as I am a kynges doughter trewe, 

If that I verrayly the cause knewe 10780 

Of your disese, if it lay in my might, 

I wold amenden it, or that it wer night, 

Als wisly help me grete God of kynde. 

And herbes schal I right y-nowe fynde. 

To helen with your hurtes hastyly." 

Tho Sebright this faukoun more pitously 

Than ever sche did, and fil to gTound anoon, 

And lay aswoXvne, deed as eny stoon. 

Til Canace hath in hir lap y-take. 

Unto that tyme sche gan of swowne slake ; 10790 

And after that sche gan of swown abreyde, 

Right in hir haukes lydne thus sche sayde. 

** That pite renneth sone in gentil hert 

(Felyng his similitude in peynes smerte) 

10782. or that it wcr nujht. The liarl. Ms. reads, if that I might; which 
appeai-B to be to ) nearly a repetition of the conclusion of the preceding Une. 



THE SQUYERES TALE. 303 



Is proved alday, as men may see. 
As wel by werk as by auctorite; 
For gentil herte kepeth gentillesse. 
I see wel, that ye have on my distresse 
Compassioun, my faire Oanace, 
Of verray wommanly benignite, 

That nature in your principles hath set. 10800 

But for noon hope for to fare the bet, 
But for to obeye unto your herte fre, 
And for to make othere war by me, 
As by the whelp chastised is the lyoun ; 
And for that cause and that conclusioun, 
Whiles that I have a leyser and a space, 
Myn harm I wil confessen er I pace." 
And whil sche ever of hir sorwe tolde, 
That other wept, as sche to water wolde, 
Til that the faucoun bad hir to be stille, 10810 

And with a sighhe thus sche sayd hir tille. 
" Ther I was bred, (alias that ilke day !) 
And fostred in a roch of marble gray 
So tendrely, that nothing eyled me, 
I ne wiste not what was adversite, 
Til I couthe flee ful heigh under the sky. 
Tho dwelled a tercelet me faste by, 
That semed welle of alle gentillesse ; 
Al were he ful of tresoun and falsnesse, 
It was i- wrapped under humble cheere, 10830 

And under heewe of trouthe in such manere, 
Under plesaunce, and under besy peyne, 
That no wight wende that he couthe feyne, 
So deep in greyn he deyed his colours. 
Right as a serpent hut him under floures 
Til he may see his tyme for to byte ; 
Right so this god of loves ypocrite 
Doth so his sermonys and his observaunce, 
Under subtil colour and aqueyntaunce, 
That sowneth unto gentilesse of love. 10830 

As in a tombe is al the faire above, 
And under is the corps, whiche that ye wot ; 
Such was this ipocrite, bothe cold and hot, 
And in this wise he served his entent, 

10827. god of loves ypocrite. Tliis is Tyrwbitt's reading. TheHarl. Ms.has, 
this yod of love, this ypocryie, which appears not to give so good a meaning. 
The Lausd. Ms. reads, this god of love ipocrite. 

10828. In the Land. ]Ms., with whicli Tyrwhitt agrees, these two lines 
stand thus,— 

Dothe so his ceremoniis and obeiceances, 
And keped in semblaut al his observances. 



S04 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



That, sauf the feend, noon wiste what he ment. 

Til he so long had weped and compleyned, 

And many a year his service to me feyned, 

Til that myn hert, to pitous and to nyce, 

Al innocent of his crouned malice, 

For-fered of his deth, as thoughte me, 10840 

Upon his othes and his sewerte, 

Graunted him love, on this condicioun, 

That evermo myn honour and myn renoun 

Were saved, both pryvy and apert ; 

That is to sayn, that, after his desert, 

I gaf him al myn hert and al my thought 

(God woot, and he, that other weye nought), 

And took his hert in chaunge of myn for ay. 

But soth is sayd, go sithens many a day, 

A trew wight and a theef thenketh nought oon. 10850 

And when he saugh the tliyng so fer i-goon. 

That 1 had graunted him fully my love, 

In such a wyse as I have sayd above. 

And geven him my trewe hert as fre 

As he swor that he gaf his herte to me, 

Anon this tigre, ful of doublenesse, 

Fil on his knees with so gretdevoutenesse, 

With so high reverence, as by his chere, 

So lyk a gentil lover of manere, 

So ravysched, as it semede, for joye, 10860 

That never Jason, ne Parys of Troye, 

Jason ? certes, ne noon other man, 

Sith Lameth was, that altherfirst bygan 

To loven two, as writen folk biforn, 

Ne never sith the firste man was born, 

Ne couthe man by twenty thousand part 

Contrefete the sophemes of his art ; 

Ne were worthy to unbokel his galoche, 

Ther doublenes of feynyng schold approche, 

Ne so couthe thankyn a wight, as he did me. 10870 

His maner was an heven for to see 

To eny womman, were sche never so wys ; 

So peynteth he and kembeth poynt devys, 

As wel his wordes, as his continaunce. 

And I so loved him for his obeisaunce. 

And for the trouthe I demed in his herte, 

That if so were that eny tiling him smerte, 

Al w 3rc it never so Htel, and I it wist, 

Me thought I felte deth at myn hert twist. 

And schortly,. so ferforth this thing is went, 10880 

That my wil was liis willes instrument j 




The squieres tale. 



THE SQUYERES TALE. '^05 



This is to say, my wille obeied his wille 

In alle thing, as fer as resoun fille, 

Kepyng the boundes of my worschip ever ; 

Ne never had I thing so leef, ne lever. 

As him, God woot, ne never schal nomo. 

This laste lenger than a veer or two, 

That I supposed of him nought but good. 

But fynally, atte laste thus it stood, 

That fortune wolde that he moste twynne 10800 

Out of the place which that I was inne. 

Wher me was wo, it is no questioun ; 

I can nat make of it descripcioun. 

For o thing dar I telle boldely^ 

I know what is the peyne of deth, therby, 

Which harm I felt, for he ne mighte byleve. 

So on a day of me he took his leve. 

So sorwful eek, that I went verrayly. 

That he had feled als moche harm as I^ 10900 

Whan that I herd him speke, and saugh his he we. 

But natheles, I thought he was so trewe> 

And eek that he schulde repeire ageyn 

Withinne a litel while, soth to seyn> 

And resoun wold eek that he moste go 

For his honour, as oft happeth so. 

Than I made vertu of necessite, 

And took it weU sethens it moste be. 

As 1 best might, 1 had fro him my sorwe, 

And took him by the hand, seint Johan to borwe. 

And sayde thus : * Lo, I am yonres al, 10011 

Beth such as I have be to you and schal.' 

What he answerd, it needeth nat to reherse i 

W ho can say bet than he, who can do werse ? 

Whan he hath al wel sayd, than hath he doon. 

Therfor bihoveth him a ful long spoon, 

That schal ete with a feend ; thus herd I say. 

So atte last he moste forth his way; 

And forth he fleeth, til he cam ther him leste. 

Whan it cam him to purpos for to reste, 10920 

1;T906. as oft happeth so. In the Harl. Ms. these wdrds have been omitted 
by a blunder of the scribe. The lacune is supplied from the Lansd. Ms. 

10916. a fill long spoon. This singular proverb appears to be of consider- 
able antiquity. It occurs more frequently in the sixleensh century ; among 
a few proverbs of this date printed in the Ileliq. Antuj. vol. i. p. 2(i8, one is, 
•' He hath need of a long spoone that eateth with the uevill." So in ShakeB- 
peare. Com. of Errors, iv. 3, " Marry, he must bave a long spoon ibat must 
eat with the devil ; " and Tempest, ii. 2, Stephanosays, " Mercy ! mercy ! this 
is a devil, and no monster : I will leave him ; I have no long spoon." 

lOyaO. thilkt .-.t. " Boethius, 1. iii. met. 2 : 

Repetunt proprios quaeque recui'sus, 
Eedituque suo liingula gaudent." 



306 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

I trow he hadde thilke text in mynde, 

That all thing repejn-yng to his kynde 

Gladeth himself ; thus seyn men, as I gesse ; 

Men loven of kynde newefangilnesse, 

As briddes doon, that men in cage feede. 

For theigli thou night and day take of hem heede. 

And straw her cage faire and soft as silk, 

And geve hem sugre, hony, breed, and mylk, 

Yet right anoon as that his dore is uppe, 

He with his feet wil sporne doun his cuppe, 10930 

And to the wode he wil, and wormes ete ; 

So newefangel be thei of her mete, 

And loven non leveres of propre kinde ; 

No gentiles of blood ne may hem binde. 

So ferde this tercelet, alas the day I 

Though he were gentil born, and fresh, and gay, 

And goodly for to see, and humble, and free. 

He saw upon a tyme a kite fie, 

And sodeynly he loved this kite soo, 

That al his love is clene fro me goo ; 10940 

And hath his trouthe falsed in this wise. 

Thus hathe the kite my love in hir servise, 

And I am lorne withoute remedy." 

And with that worde this faukon gan to cry, 

And sowneth eft in Canacees barme. 

Gret was the sorwe for that haukes harme. 

That Canace and alle hire wommen made ; 

They nysten liowe they myght the faukon glade. 

But Canace horn bereth hir in hir lappe, 

And softely in piastres gan hir ^vrappe, 10950 

Ther as sche with hir bek hadde hurt hir selve. 

Now can nought Canace bot herbes delve 

Out of the grounde, and maken salves newe 

Of herbes precious and fyne of hewe. 

To helen with this hauk ; fro day to night 

Sche doth hir besines, and al hir might. 

And by hir beddes heed sche made a me we, 

And covered it with veluettes blewe, 

In signe of trewthe that is in womman seene ; 

And al withoute the mewe is peynted greene, 10960 

In whiche were peynted alle this false foulos, 

As ben this tideves, tercelettes, and owles ; 



A leaf ortwo have unfortunately been lost from the Ilarleian Ms. 
after this line, and 1 am obliged lo take the remainder of the tale from Tyr- 
Whitt, collated with the Laiisd. Ms. 

10933. noil leveres— no : alion.s. Tyrwhitt has, loven noveltees. 

10968. blewe. Blue whs the color of trutic 



THE SQUYERES TALE. 



3o: 



And pies, on horn for to crye and chide, 
Right for despite were peynted hem byside. 

Thus lete I Canace hir hauk kepyng. 
I wil nomore no we speken of hir rynge, 
Til it come eft to purpos for to seyn, 
Ilow that this faukon gat hir love ageyn 
Repentaunt, as the story telleth us, 
By mediacioun of Camballus 
The kingfes sone, of which that I yow tolde ; 
But hennesforth I wil my proces holde 
To speken of aventures, and of batailes, 
That yit was never herd so grete mervailes. 
First wil I telle yow of Cambynskan, 
That in his time many a cite wan ; 
And after wil I speke of Algarsif, 
How that he wan Theodora to his wif. 
For whom ful ofte in grete peril he was, 
Ne had he ben holpen by the hors of bras. 
And after wil I speke of Camballo, 
That fought in listes with the bretheren tuo 
For Canace, er that he might hir wynne, 
And ther 1 left I wol ageyn beginne. 



10970 



10980 



10963-4. I have followed Tyrwhitt in transposing tbese two lines, which 
Btand in the Lansd. and other mss.— 

Right for despite were peynted hem bytide, 
And pies, on hem for to crj'e and chide. 
10977-8 "are also transposed. According to the common arrangement, 
old Cambuscan is to iv'm Theodora to his v:'if, and we are not told what is lo 
be the object of Algarsif's adventures."— Tynvkilt. 

10981. of Camballo. " I\Is. A. reads Caballo. But that is not my only rca- 
Bon for suspecting a mistake in this name. It seems clear from tlie" ■ .n\- 
text, that the person here intended is not a brother, but a lover, of Canaco, 
Who fought in listes with the brethren two 
For Canace, or that he might hire winne. 
The brethren two ire obviously the two brethren of Canace, who have been 
mentioned above, Algarsif and Camballo. In Ms. Ask. ], 2, it is, hir brethren 
tiro, wliich would put the matter out of all doubt. (Jamballo could not fight 
with himself. Again, if this (Jamballo is supposed to be the brother oi Cht- 
nace, and to fight in defence of her with some two brethren, who iiiighi i>e 
suitors to her, according to Spencer's tie-tion, he could not properly be said 
to u-inne his sister when he only prevented others from winning her. The 
outline therefore of the unfinished part of this tale, according to my idea, 
is nearly this ; the conclusion of the stoiy of the Faucon, 

By mediation of Cambalhis, 
with the help of the rivo , the conquests of Cambusl-an ; the winidng of 
Theodora by Algarsif, with the assistance of the horse of brass ; and the mar- 
riage of Canace to so7ne knight, who was first obliged to' fight for her with her 
two brethren ; a method of courtship very consonant to the 8i)irit of ancient 
chivalry." — 'J'yrwhitt. 

10984. In the Lansd. Ms., in which the Squyeres Tale is followed by the 
tale of the Wyf of Bathe, the following lines are added as a sort of conclusion 
to the former :— 

Bot I wil here now maake a knotte 
To the time it come next t(i my lotte ; 



308 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



THE FRANKELETNES PROLOGE. 

** In faith, Squier, thou hast the wel y-quit 

And gentilly, I preise wel thy wit," 

Quod the Frankeleyn, " considering thin youthe, 

So felingly thou spekest, sire, I aloue the, 

As to my dome, ther is non that is here, 

Of eloquence that schal be thy pere, 1C990 

If that thou live ; God geve thee goode chanc 

And in vertue send the continaunce, 

For of thy speking I have gret deinte. 

I have a sone, and by the Trinite 

It were me lever than twenty pound worth lond, 

Though it right now were fallen in my hond. 

He were a man of swiche discretion, 

As that ye ben ; fie on possession, 

But if a man be vertuous withal. 

I have my sone snibbed, and yet shal, 11000 

For he to vertue listeth not to entend. 

But for to play at dis, and to dispend, 

And lese all that he hath, is his usage ; 

And he had lever talken with a page, 

Than to commune with any gentil wight, 

Ther he might leren gentillesse aright." 

** Straw for you gentillesse 1 '' quod our hoste. 
" What ? Frankeleyn, parde, sire, wel thou wost 
That eche of you mote tellen at the lest 
A tale or two, or breken his behest." 11010 

"That know I wel, sire," quod the Frankeleyn, 
** I pray you haveth me not in disdein. 
Though I to this man speke a word or two." 
*' Tell on thy tale, withouten wordes mo." 
** Gladly, sire hoste," quod he, "I wol obeye 
Unto your wille ; now herkeneth what 1 seye ; 
I wol you not contrarien in no wise. 
As fer as that my wittes may suffice. 
I pray to God that it may plesen you, 
That wot I wel that it is good y-now. Il020 

'* This olde gentil Bretons in here dales 

For here be felaweg behinde and hepe txeulye, 

That wolde talke ful besilye, 

And havo her eporte as wele as I, 

And the dale paaseth fast certanly. 

Therefore, oate, taketh nowe goode heede 

Who schalle next telle, and late him speeds. 

10985. All from this line to 1. 11020 is omitted in the LandBdowne and other 
MBS., and I have given it chiefly from Tyrwhitt. 

11021. gentil Bretons. The Breton *♦ laies" here alluded to were very fa- 
mous in the middle ages ; but they involve a question of literary history of 
OOBeidereble difficulty, into which we eaunot enter on the present occasion. 



THE FRANKKLKYNES TALE. 309 



Of divers avontures maden laies, 

Riinj^den in her firste Breton tonge ; 

Whiohe laies with here instrumentes thei songe, 

Oiher elles redden hem for her plesance, 

And one of hem have I in remembrance, 

Which I schc^l seie with goode wil as I can. 

But, sires, because I am a burel man, 

At my beginnyng first I you beseche 

Haveth me excused of me rude speche. 11030 

I lerned never rethorik certeine ', 

Thinge that I speke, it most be bare and pleine ; 

I slept never on the mount of Parnaso, 

Ne lerned Marcus, TuUius, ne Cithero. 

Colours ne know I non, withouten drede. 

But suche colours as growen in the mede, 

Or ellas suche as men deye with or peinte ; 

Colours of rethorik ben to me queynte ; 

My spirit feleth nought of suche matiere, 

But if you luste my tale schal ye here." 11040 

THE FRANKELEYNES TALE. 

In Armorik, that clepid is Bretaigne. 
Ther was a knyght, that loved and dede his peyne 
To serven a lady in his best^ wise ; 
And many a labour, many a grete emprise 
He for his lady wrouht, or sche were wonne ; 
P'or sche was on the fairest under soniie. 
And eke therto com of so hihe kinrede. 
That wele unnethes dorst this knyht for drede 
Tel hir his woo, his peine, and his distresse. 
But at the last, sche for his worthinesse, 11050 

And namely for his meke obeissance, 
liath such a pite caught of his penance. 
That prively sche fel of his accorde 
To take him for hir housbonde and hir lorde 
(Of suche lordschip as men han over hire wyves) 5 
And, for to lede the more in blisse her lyves, 
Of his fre wil he swore hire as a knyht, 
That never in his wil be day ne nyht 
Ne scholde he upon him take no maistrie 

J 1034. Marcus, Tuhius, ne Cithero. This is the reading of the I.andsdowne 
Mb-, and I am inclined to think it may be the right one, Chaucer's intention 
being Lo exhibit the Frankeleyne's ignorance of classical literature. 

The t'rankeleynes Tale. The lay, from which Chaucer informs us tliat he 
took thia^tale, appears to bo entirely lo^t ; but Boccaccio, who made up hre 
Decameron from the popular fabliaux and tales of the time, has preserved a 
voraion of this story in Uiat work, Day x. umn. 5, as well as iu the fifth boolt 
of liia I'hilocojiu 



310 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Ageines hir wille, ne kythe hire jelousye, 11060 

But hire obeie, and folowe hire wille in al. 

As any lover to his lady schal ; 

Save that the name of sovereignete 

That nolde he have for schanie of his degre 

Sche thonketh him, and with ful grete humblesse 

Sche seide ; " Sir, seththe ye of youre gentillesse 

Ye profer me to have als large a reyne, 

Ne wold nevere God betwix us tweyne. 

As in my gulte, were eyther werre or strif. 

Sir, I \n\ be youre humble trewe wif, 11070 

Have here my trouthe, til that myn herte bruste." 

Thus ben they bothe in quiete and in ruste. 

Por o thinge, sires, saufly dar I seie, 

That frendes everyche other motte obeie, 

If thei wil longe holde compagne. 

Love wil nouht buen constreyned by maistre. 

Whan maistre commeth, the god of love anon 

Beteth his winges, and fare wel, he is gon. 

Love is a thinge, as any spirit, fre. 

Wommen of kinde desiren liberte, 11080 

And nouht to be constreined as a thral ; 

And so doth men, if I the sothe sale schal. 

Loke who that is most pacient in love. 

He is at his avantage .al above. 

Paciens is an hihe vertue certein, 

For it venquisheth, as this clerkes sein, 

Thinges that rigour never sholde atteine. 

For every worde men may nouht chide ne pleine. 

Lerneth to suffer, or elles, so most I gon, 

Ye sclml it lerne whether ye wol or non. 11030 

For in this world certein no wight ther is, 

That he ne doth or seyth som time amis. 

Ire, or sikenesse, or constellacioun, 

Wyn, wo, or chaunginge of complexioun, 

Causeth ful oft to don amys or speken. 

On every wronge men maye nouht be wreken ; 

After the time most be temperance 

To every wight that can of governance. 

And therfor hath this worthy wise knight 

To liven in ese suffrance hir behight ; 11100 

And sche to him ful wisely gan to swere. 

That nevere schold ther be defaute in hire. 

Here may men seen an humble wise accorde ; 

Thus hath sche take hire servant and hir lorde, 

Servant in love, and lorde in mariage. 

'i'han was he bothe in lordeschipe and servage ? 



THE FRANKELEYNES TALE. 311 

Servage ? nay, but in lordeschip al above, 

Sethen he hath bothe his lady and his love ; 

His lady certes, and his wif also, 

The which that law of love accordeth to. 11110 

And whan he was in this prosperite, 

Home with his wif he goth to his contre, 

Nouht fer fro Penmarke, ther his dwellinge was, 

Wher as he leveth in blisse and in solas. 

Who couthe telle, but he had wedded be. 
The joye, the ese, and the prosperite. 
That is betwix an housbond and his wif ? 
A yere and more lasteth this blisful lif, 
Til that this knight, of which I spak of thus, 
That of Cairrud was cleped Arviragus, 11120 

Schope liim to gon and dwelle a yere or tweyne 
In Engelond, that cleped eke was Bretayne, 
To seke in amies worschipe and honour, 
(For al his lust he set in suche labour) ; 
And dwelleth there tuo yere ; the boke seith thus. 

Now will I stint of this Arviragus, 
And speken I wil of Dorigen his wif, 
That loveth hir husbond as hire hertes Uf . 
For his absence wepeth sche and siketh. 
As don this noble wives whan hem liketh ; 11130 

Sche morneth, waketh, waileth, fasteth, pleyneth ; 
Desire of his presence hir so distreineth, 
That al this wide world sche set at nouht. 
Hire frendes, which that knewe hir hevy thouht, 
Comforten hire in al that ever thei may ; 
Thei prechen hire, thei tellen hire nyht and day, 
That causeles sche sleth hir self, alas 1 
And every comfort possible in this cas 
Thei don to hire, with al here businesse. 
And al to make hire leve hire hevynesse. 11140 

By proces, as ye knowen everychone, 
Men mowe so longe graven in a stone. 
Til some figure therinne emprinted be ; 
So longe have thei comforted hire, that sche 
Receyved hath, by hope and by resoun 
The emprintinge of hire consolacioun, 
Thorugh which hire grete sorwe gan assuage ; 
Sche may not alway duren in suche rage. 
And eke Arviragus, in al this care, 

11113. Penmarl-€. Penmark is on the western coast of Britany, between 
Breet and L'Orient. 

11120. Cairrud. So Tyrwhitt gives the name, but he does not inform na 
wbero tlie plaoe i^ situated. La t^e Lausd. Mb. it is called Kynred. 



Jiath sent liis lettres home of his welfare, 11150 

And that lie wolde come hastily ageyn. 

Or elles had this sorwe hire herte sleyn. 

Hire frendes sauh hire sorwe gan to slake, 

And preiden hire on knees, for Goddes sake, 

To come and romen in here companye, 

Away to driven hire derke fantasie ; 

And finally sche graunted that request, 

For wel sche sauh that it was for the best. 

Now stode hir castle faste by the see, 
And often with hire frendes walked sche, 11160 

liir to disporten on the bank an hihe, 
Wher as sche many a schip and barge sihe, 
Sailinge her cours, where as hem liste to go. 
But yit was that a parcel of hir wo, 
For to hir selve ful oft, " alas ! " seid sche, 
" Is ther no schip, of so many as I se, 
Wil bringen home my lorde ? than were myn herte 
Al warisshed of this bitter peine smerte." 

Another time wold sche sitte and thinke, 
And kast his eye dounward fro the brinke ; 11170 

But whan sche sawh the grisly rokkes blake, 
For verray fere so wolde hire herte qwake, 
That on hir feet sclie myhte nouht hir snstene. 
Than wolde sche sit adoun upon the grene, 
And pitously into the see biholde, 
And seyn right thus, with careful sikes colde. 
*' Eterne God, that thorugh thy purveance 
Ledest this world by certein governance. 
In idel; as men sein, ye nothinge make. 
But, lord, this grisly fendely rockes blake, 11180 

That semen rather a foule confusioun 
Of werke, than any faire creacioun 
Of suche a parfit wise God and stable, 
Why han ye wrought this werk unresonable ? 
For by this werke, southe, northe, este, ne west, 
Ther nis i fostred man, ne brid, ne best ; 
It doth no good to my wit, but anoyeth. 
See ye nouht, lord, how mankind it destroyeth ? 
An hundred thousand bodies of manldnde 
Han rokkes slein, al be they nought in mynde ; 11190 
Which mankinde is so faire parte of thy werke. 
Thou madest it like to thyn owen merke 
Than, semetli it, ye had a gret cherte 
Toward mankinde ; but how than may it be, 
That ye suclie menes make it to destroyen ? 
Which menes doth no good, but ev^r anoyea. 



THE FRANKELEYNES TALE. 31S 



I woot wel, clerkes woln sein as hem lest \ 

By argumentz, that al is for the best, | 

Though I ne can the causes nought y-knowe ; 

But thilke God that maad the wind to bio we, 11200 

As kepe my lord, this is my conclusloun ; 

To clerkes lete I al disputisoun : 

But wolde God, that al this rokkes blake 

Were sonken into helle for his sake 1 

This rokkes slee myn herte for the fere." 

Thus wold sche say with many a pitous tere. 

Hire frendes sawe that it nas no disport 
To romen by the see, but discomfort, 
And schope hem for to pleien som where elles, 
They leden hire by rivers and by wolles, 11210 

And eke in other places delitables ; 
They dauncen and they play at ches and tables 
So on a day, right in the morwe tide. 
Unto a gardeyn that was ther beside, 
In which that they had made her ordinance 
Of vitaile, and of other purveance, 
They gon and plaie hem al the longe day ; 
And this was on the sixte morwe of May, 
Which May had peinted with his softe schoures 
This gardeyn ful of leves and floures : 11220 

And craft of mannes hond so curiously 
Arrayed had this gardeyn trewely, 
That never was ther gardeyn of suche pris. 
But if it were the verray paradis. 
The odour of floures and the fresshe siht, 
Wold han y-maked any herte light 
That ever was born, but if to gret sikenesse 
Or to gret sorwe held it in distresse. 
So ful it was of beaute and plesaunce. 
And after dinner gan thay to daunce 11230 

And singe also, sauf Dorigen alone, 
Which made alway hire compleynt and hire mone, 
For sche ne sawh him on the daunce go. 
That was hir housbond, and hire love also ; 
But natheles sche moste hir time abide. 
And with good hope lete hire sorwe slide, 

Upon this daunce, amonges othere men, 
Daunced a squire before Dorigen, 
That frescher was and jolier of array, 
As to my dome, than is the moneth of May. 11240 

He singeth and daunseth passing any man. 
That is or was siththe that the world began ; 
Therwith he was, if nven schuld him descrive, 



814 



THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



On of the beste faringe men on live, 

Yonge, strong, riht virtuous, and riche, and wise, 

And wel beloved, and holden in gret prise. 

And echortly, if the soth I tellen schal, 

Unweting of this Dorigen at al, 

This lusty squier, servant to Venus, 

"Which that y-cleped was Aurilius, 11250 

Had loved hire best of any creature 

Two yere and more, as was his adventure ; 

But never dorst he tellen hire his grevance, 

Withouten cuppe he drank al his penance. 

He was dispeired, nothing dorst he seye, 

Sauf in his songes somwhat wolde he wreye 

His woo, as in a general compleyning ; 

He said, he loved, and was beloved nothing. 

Of suche matier made he many layes, 

Songes, compleyntes, roundelets, virelayes; 11260 

How that he dorste not his sorwe telle, 

But languissheth as doth a fuyr in helle 3 

And deie he must, he seid, as did Ekko 

For Narcisus, that dorst nought telle hir wo. 

In other maner than ye here me seye, 

Nc dorst he nouht to hire his wo bewreye, 

Sauf that paraventure som time at daunces, 

Ther yonge folk kepen her observaunces, 

It may wel be he loked on hir face 

In suche a wise, as man that axeth grace, 11270 

But nothing wiste, sche of his entent. 

Natheles it happed, er they thennes went, 

Because that he was hire neighebour. 

And was a man of worschipe and honour, 

And had y-knowen him oft times yore, 

Thei felle in speche, and forth ay more and more 

Unto his purpos drowh Aurilius ; 

And whai^ he 8awh liis time, he seide thus. 

" Madame," quod he, " by God, that this world made, 

So that I wist it might your herte glatie, 11280 

I wolde that day. that youre Arviragus 

Went over see, that I Aurilius 

Had went ther I scholde never come agein ; 

For wel I wot my servise is in vein, 

My guerdon nys but bresting of myn herte. 

Madame, reweth upon my peines smerte, 

For with & word ye may me sle or save. 

11264. Karcisus. This classic personage was known popularly of the mid 
die ages, from the circumstance of his having been made the subject of© 
Freui h fabliau or metrical story. 



Till': FRANKELEYNES TALH. 315 



Here at youre foet God wold that I were grave I 

I ne hav^e as now no leiser more to seye ; 

Have mercy, swete, or ye wol do me deye." 11290 

Sche gan to loke upon Aurilius ; 
** Is this your wil," quod sche, " and say ye thus ? 
Never erst," quod sche, " ne wist I what ye ment ; 
But now, AuriUe, I know your entent. 
But thilke God, that gave me soule and lif, 
Ne schal I never ben untrewe wif 
In word ne werk, as fer as I have witte, 
I wil ben his to whom that I am knitte. 
Take this for final answer as of me." 
But after that in play thus seide sche ; 11300 

*' Aurilie," quod sche, " by hihe God above, 
Yit wil I graunt'e you to be your love 
(Sin I yow see so pitously compleyne), 
Loke, what day that endelong Breteigne 
Ye remewe al the rokkes, ston by ston, 
That they ne letten schip ne bote to gon, 
I say, whan ye have maad this cost so clene 
Of rokkes, that ther nys no ston y-sene, 
Than wol I love yow best of any man, 
Have here my trouthe, in al that ever I can ; 11310 

For wel I wot that that schal never betide. 
Let suclie folie out of youre hei te glide. 
What deynte scholde a man have in his lif, 
For to go love another mannes wif, 
That hath her body whan that ever him liketh ? " 
Aurilius ful often sore siketh ; 
'* Is ther non other grace in you ? " quod he. 
'* No, by that lord," quod sche, " that maked me." 
Wo was Aurilie whan that he this herde. 
And with a sorweful herte he thus answerde. 11330 

" Madame," quod he, " this were an impossible. 
Than moste 1 deie of sodeyn deth horrible." 
And with that word he turned him anon. 

Tho come hir other frendes many on, 
And in the alleyes romed up and doun, 
And nothing wist of this conclusioun, 
But sodeynly began to revel newe. 
Til that the brighte sonne had lost his hewe, 
For the orizont had reft the sonne his liht 
(This is as much to sayn as it was nyht); 11330 

And home thei gon in jcye aud solas; 
Sauf only wrecche A una us, alas I 
He to his ho us is gon with t^orweful herte. 
He saith he may not from his deth asterte. 



816 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Him serneth, that he felt his herte colde. 

Up to the heven his handes gan he holde, 

And on his knees bare he set him doun, 

And in his raving seid his orisoun. 

For verray wo out of his witte he braide, 

He nyst nouht what he spak, but thus he seide ; 11840 

With pitous herte his pleynt hath he begonne 

Unto the goddes, and first unto the sonne. 

He seid, " Apollo, God and governour 

Of every plante, herbe, tre, and flour, 

That givest after thy declinacioun 

To eclie of hem his tyme and sesoun, 

As that thin herbergh chaungeth low and hihe ; 

Lord Phebus, cast thy merciable eye 

On wrecche Aurilie, which that am for-lorne. 

Lo, lord, my lady hath my deth y-sworne 11350 

Withouten gilt, but thy benignite 

Upon my dedly herte have some pite. 

For wel I wot, lord Phebus, if you lest, 

Ye may me helpen, sauf my lady, best. 

Now voucheth sauf, that I may you devise 

How that I may be holpeand in what wise. 

Your blisful sustor, Lucina the schene, 

That of the see is chief goddes and qwene ; — 

Though Neptunus have deite in the see, 

Yit emperes aboven him is sche ; 11300 

Ye knowe wei, lord, that right as hir desire 

Is to be quiked and lihted of your fire, 

For which sche folwith yow ful besily, 

RighJ: so the see desireth naturelly 

To folwen hir, as sche that is goddesse 

Both in the see and rivers more and lesse. 

Wherfor, lord Phebus, this is my request, 

Do this miracle, or do myn herte brest ; 

That now next at this opposicioun, 

Which in the signe schal be of the Lyoun, 11370 

As preyeth hire so grete a flood to bringe, 

That five fathome at the lest it overspringe 

The hihest rokke in Armorik Bretaine, 

And let this flod enduren yeres twaine ; 

Than certes to my lady may I say, 

Holdeth your best, the rokkes ben away. 

Lord Phebus, this miracle doth for me, 

Prey hire sche go no faster cours than ye ; 

I sey this, preyeth your suster that sche go 

No faster cours than ye this yeres tuo ; 11380 

Than schal sche even be at ful alway, 



THE FRANKELEYNES TALL, 317 



And spring-flood lasten bothe night and day. 

And but sche vouchesauf in suclie inanere 

To graunten me my sovereigne lady dere, 

Prey hir to sinken every rok adoun 

Into hir owen darke regioun 

Under the grounde, ther Pluto duelleth inne, 

Or nevermo schal I my lady wynne. 

Thy temple in Delphos wil I barfote seke ; 

Lord Phebus, se the teres on ray cheke, 11390 

And on my peyne have some compassioun." 

And with that word in sorwe he fel adoun, 

And long time he lay forth in a traunce. 

His brother, which that knew of his penaunce, 

Up cauht him, and to bed he hath him bronht. 

Dispeired in this turment and this thouht, 

Let I this woful creature lye, 

Chese he for me whether he wol leve or deye. 
Arviragus with hele and grete honour 

(As he that was of chevalrie the flour) 11400 

Is comen home, and other worthy men. 

O, blisful art thou now, thou Dorigen, 

That hast thy lusty housbond in thine amies, 

The fressche knight, the worthy man of amies. 

That loveth 4he, as his owen hertes lif j 

Nothing list him to be imaginatif, 

If any wight had spoke, while he was oute. 

To hire of love ; he had of that no doute ; 

He nouht entendeth to no suche matere. 

But daunceth, justeth, and maketh mery chore. IHld 

And thus in joye and blisse I let hem dwelle, 

And of the sike Aurilius wol I telle. 

In langour and in turment furius 

Two yere and more lay wrecche Aurilius, 

Er any foot on erthe he mighte gon ; 

Ne comfort in this time had he non, 

Sauf of his brother, which that was a clerk. 

He knew of al this wo and al this werk ; 

For to non other creature certein 

Of this matere he dorste no word seyn ; 11420 

Under his brest he bar it more secre 

Than ever dede Pamphilus for Galathe. 
11422. Pamphilus for OalatU. The allnsion is to a popular medieval poem 
ronunoiily known by the name of Pamphilus, in which a person of this name 
gives the history of his amour with Galatem, and which comraonces with the 
lollowiug lines (cojiveying the idea alluded to by Chaucer)^— 
Vulneror et clausum porto sub pectore telum, 

Crescit et assiduo plaga dolorque mihi ; 
Etferientis adhtic non audeo dicere nomeu 
Nee sinit a"^ pectus plaga videre fcuos. 



■d 



318 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



His brest was hole withouten for to sene, 

But in his herte ay was the arwe kene ; 

And wel ye wote that of a sursanure 

In surgerie fnl perilous is the cure, 

But men myght touch the arwe or come therby. 

His brother wex)eth and weyleth prively, 

Til at the last him fel in remembraunce, 

That whiles he was in Orleaunce in Fraunce, 11430 

As yonge clerkes, that ben likerous 

To reden artes that ben curious, 

Seken in every halke and every heme 

Particulere sciences for to lerne, 

He him remembreth, that upon a day 

At Orleaunce in studie a boke he seye 

Of magik naturel, which his felaw, 

That was that time a bacheler of law, 

Al were he ther to lerne another craft, 

Had prively upon his desk y-laft ; 11440 

Which book spak moche of operaciouns 

Touchinge the eight and twenty niansiouns 

That longen to the mone, and suche folie 

As in oure days nys not worth a flye ; 

For holy cherches feith, in oure byleve, 

Ne suffreth non illusioun us to greve. 

And whan this boke was in remembraunce. 

Anon for joye his herte gan to daunce, 

And to him self he seide j^iively ; 

" My brother schal be warisshed hastely ; 11450 

For I am siker that ther be sciences. 

By which men maken divers apparences 

Such as this subtil tregetoures pleyn. 

For ofte at festes have I wel herd seyn. 

That tregetoures, within an halle large, 

Have made come in a water and a barge. 

And in the halle rowen up and doun. 

Some time hath semed come a grim lyoun ; 

And some time floures springe as in a mede ; 

Som time a vine, and grapes wliite and rede ; 11460 

Som time a castel al of lime and ston, 

And whan hem liketh voideth it anon ; 

Thus semeth it to every mannes sight. 

Now than conclude I thus, if that I might 

At Orleaunce som olde felaw finde, 

That hath this mones mansions in mynde, 

11430. Orleaunce in Fraunce. There was a celebrated and very ancient 
university at Orleang, which fell irito disrepute as the uuiversity of Paris bo 
Cw^me famous ; and the rivalry probably led to the imputation that Ihc cc^ui, 
BcJences wero cultivated at Orleaua. 



TEE FRANKELEYNES TALE, SlU 



Or other magik naturel above, 

He scholde wel make my brother have his love. 

For with an apparence a clerk may make 

To mannes sight, that alle the rokkes blake 1 147U 

Of Breteigne were y-voided everichon, 

And schippes by the brinke comen and gon. 

And in suche forme endure a day or tuo ; 

Than were my brother warisshed of his wo, 

Than most sche nedes holden hire behest, 

Or elles he schal scliame hire at the lest." 

What schold 1 make a lenger tale of this ? 

Unto his brothers bedde comen he is, 

And suche comfort he gaf him, for to gon 

To Orleaunce, that he up stert anon, 11480 

And on his way forth- ward than is he fare, 

In hope for to ben lissed of his care. 

Whan they were come almost to that cite, 

But if it were a tuo furlong or thre, 

A yonge clerke roming by himself they mette, 

Which that in Latine thriftily hem grette. 

^ rid after that he seyd a wonder thinge ; 

" 1 know," quod he, " the cause of your comynge." 

And er they forther any foote went. 

He told hem al that was in her entent. 11490 

This Breton clerk him asked of felawes, 

The wliich he had y-knowen in olde dawes ; 

And he answered him that they dede were, 

For which he wept ful often many a tere. 

Doun of his liors Aurilius light anon. 
And forth with this magicien is he gon 
Home to his hous, and made him wel at ese ; 
Hem lacked no vitaile that might hem plese. 
So wel arraied hous as ther was on, 
Aurilius in his lif saw never non. 11500 

He schewed him, er they went to soupere, 
Forestes, parkes ful of wilde dere. 
Ther saw he hartes with her homes hee, 
The gretest that were ever seen with eye. 
He saw of hem an hundred slain with houndes, 
And som witli arwes blede of bitter woundes. 
He saw, whan voided were the wilde dere, 
Tbise faukoners upon a faire rivere, 
That with hir haukes hau the heron slein. 
Tho saw he kuyhtes justen in a pleyn. 11510 

And after this lie decle him suche plesaunce, 
That he him schewed his lady in a dauncp, 
On wliich him seiveu daunciMi, a^ biui th i.lit. 



S20 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And whan this maister, that this inagik wrouht. 

Saw it was time, he clapped his hondes two, 

And fare well, al the revel is ago. 

And yet remued they never out of the hous, 

Whiles they sawe alle tliis sightes mervelous ; 

But in his stodie, ther his bokes be, 

They saten stille, and no wight but they thre. 11520 

To him his maister called than his squyere. 

And sayde him thus, " May we go to soupere ? 

Almost an houre it is, I undertake, 

Sin I yow bad our soper for to make, 

Whan that this worthy men wenten with me 

Into my stodie, ther as my bokes be." 

" Sire," quod this squyere, ** when it liketh you. 

It is al redy, though ye wolde righte now." 

** Go we than soupe,'' quod he, " as for the best, 

This amorous folk some timemoste have rest." 11539 

And after soper fel they in trete 
What somme schold his maisters guerdon be, 
To remue alle the rokkes of Bretaigne, 
And eke fro Gerounde to the mouth of Seine. 
He made it strange, and swore, so God him save, 
Lesse than a thousand pound he wolde nought have, 
Ne gladly for that somme he wolde not goon. 
Aurilius with bhsful hert anoon 
Answered thus : '' Fy on a thousand pound ! 
This wyde world, which that men say is round, 11540 
I wold it give, if I were lord of it. 
This bargeyn is ful dryve, for we ben knyt ; 
Ye schal be payed trewly by my trouthe. 
But loketh now, for necligence or slouthe, 
Ye tarie us heer no lenger than to morwe." 
'* Nay," quod this clerk, *' have her my faith to torwe," 

To bed is goon Aurilius whan him leste, 
And wel neigh al night he had his reste, 
What for his labour, and his hope of blisse. 
His woful hert of penaunce had a hsse. 11550 

Upon the morwe, whan that it was day, 
To Breteign take thei the righte way, 
Aurilius, and this magicien bisyde, 
And ben descendid ther thay wol abyde ; 
And this was, as these bookes me remembre, 
The colde frosty seisoun of Decembre. 
Phebus wax old, and hewed lyk latoun, 
That in his hoote declinacioun 
Sch(»n as the burned gold, with stremes bright ; 

U636. Tht) lacuna in theHarl. Mb. ends witJi tliis line. 



THE FRANKKLEYNES TALE. ^21 



But now ill Capricorn adoun he light, 1156C 

Wlier as he schon ful pale, I dar wel sayn. 

The bitter frostes with the sleet and rayn 

Destroyed hath the grene in every yerd. 

Janus sit by the fuyr with double berd, 

And drynketh of his bugle horn the wyo ; 

B'forri him stont the braun of toskid swyn. 

And noioel crieth every lusty man. 

Aurilius, in al that ever he can, 

Doth to his maister chier and reverence. 

And peyneth him to doon his diligence 11570 

To bringen him out of his x^eynes smerte. 

Or with a swerd that he wold slj^tte his herte. 

This subtil clerk such routhe had of this man, 
That night and day he spedeth him, that he can, 
To wayte a tyme of his conclusioun , 
This is to say, to make illusioun, 
By such an apparence of jogelrie 
(I can no termes of astrologie), 
That sche and every wight schold wene and saye, 
That of Breteygn the rokkes were aw;iye, 11580 

Or elles they sonken were under the grounde. 
So atte last he hath a tyme i-founde 
To make his japes and his wrecchednesse 
Of such a supersticious cursednesse. 
His tables Tollitanes forth he brcught 
Ful well corrected, ne ther lakked nought, 
Neither his collect, ne his expans yeeres, 
Neither his rootes, ne his other geeres, 
As ben his centris, and his argumentis, 
And his proporcionels convenientis 11590 

^or her equaciouns in every thing. 
An(\ by his thre speeres in his worching, 
He Knew ful wel how for Allnath was schove 
Fro the heed of tliilk fixe Aries above. 
That in the fourthe speere considred is. 
F'll subtilly he calkiled al this. 
Wnan he had foundc his firste manciouD; 



11585. Hia tables Tollitanes. "The Astrononiioal Tables, composed by 
ordor of Alphonso X., kino; of Castile, about the middle of the thirteenth ceii- 
tmy.weie called sometimes TabuUe 7'o/e/an(E, from their being adapted to 
the city of Toledo. There is a very elegant copy of them in Ms. Ilarl. 3647. 
1 iiMi iif)t suthciently skilled in ancient astronomy to add anything to the ex- 
planation of the following technical terms, drawn chietly from those tables, 
V. iiich has been given in the Addit. to Gloss. \]TV."—Ti/rir}na. 

115i»'2. thre. Tyrwhitt, with the Ms. Lansd., reads eighte. 

115t)3. Allnath. The lirst star in the horns of Aries, whence the first mai> 
eJoii of the moon is named. 

\WJ5. fntirthe. Tyrwhitt. with Ms Lansd., reads ?ti«,<Ae. 

2tX 



822 TUE CANTERBURY TALES. 



He knew the remenaunt by proporcioun ; 

And knew the arisyng of this moone wel, 

And in whos face, and terme, and every del ; 11600 

And knew ful wel the moones mancioun 

Acordaunt to his operacioun ; 

And knew also his other observaunces, 

For suche illusiouns and siiche meschaunces, 

As hethen folk used in thilke dayes. 

For which no lenger maked he delayes, 

But thurgh his niagik, for a wike or tweye, 

£t seemed that the rokkes were aweye. 

Aurilius, which yet dispayred is 
Wher he schal han his love or fare amys, 11610 

Awayteth night and day on this miracle ; 
And whan he knew that ther was noon obstacle, 
That voyded were these rokkes everichoon, 
Doun to his maistres feet he fel anoon, 
And sayd : *' I wrecched woful Aurilius, 
Thanke you, lord, and my lady Venus, 
That me han holpe fro my cares colde." 
And to the temple his way forth he hath holde. 
Wher as he knew he schold his lady se. 
And whan he saugh his tyme, anoon right he 11630 
With dredful hert and with ful humble cheere 
Salued hath his owne lady deere. 
*' My soverayn lady," quod this woful man, 
" Whom I most drede, and love, as I can, 
And lothest were of al this world displese, 
Nere it that I for you have such desese, 
That I most deye her at youre foot anoon, 
Nought wold I te'lp how me is wo bygoon, 
But certes outhor most I dye or i^leyne, 
Yfc sleen me gulLeles for verrey peyne. il630 

But of my deth though that ye have no routhe, 
Avyseth yow, or that ye breke your tronthe ; 
Repenteth yow for thilke God above. 
Or ye me sleen, by cause that I you love. 
For, madame, wel ye woot what ye han hight ; 
Not that I chalenge eny thing of right 
Of yow, my soverayn lady, but youre grace ; 
But in a gardyn yonde, at such a place, 
Ye wot right wel what ye byhighte me, 
And in myn hond your trouthe plighte ye, 11640 

To love me best ; God woot ye sayde so, 
Al be that I unworthy am therto ; 
Madame, I speke it for thonour of yow, 
lif ore than to save myn hertes lif right now ; 



TEE FRANKELEYNES TALE, 323 

I have do so as ye comaunded me, 

And if ye vouchesauf, ye may go se. 

Doth as you list, have yoiire byheste in niynde, 

For quyk or deed, right ther ye schul me fynde ; 

In yow hth al to do me lyve or deye ; 

But wel I wot the rokkes ben aweye." 11C50 

He taketh his leve, and sche astoned stood ; 
In alle hir face nas oon drop of blood ; 
Sche wende never have be in such a trappe. 
" Alias ! " quod sche, *' that ever this schulde happe 
For wend I never by prssibilite, 
That such a monstre or merveyl mighte be ; 
It is agayns the proces of nature." 
And hom sche goth a sorwful creature, 
For verray fere unnethe may sche go. 
Sche wepeth, wayleth al a day or tuo, 11660 

And swowneth, that in routhe was to see ; 
But why it was, to no wight tolde sche, 
For out of tonne was goon Arviragus. 
But to hir self sche spak, and sayd thus, 
With face pale, and with ful sorwful chiere, 
In hir compleint, as ye schul after hiere. 
"Alias ! " quod sche, " on the, fortune, I pleyne. 
That unwar wrapped me hast in thy cheyne, 
Fro which tescape, woot I no socour. 
Save oonlydeth, or elles dishonour ; 11670 

Oon of these tuo bihoveth me to chese. 
But natheles, yet have I lever leese 
My lif, than of my body to have schame, 
Or knowe my selve fals, or lese my name ; 
And with my deth I may be quyt i-Avys. 
Hath ther not many a noble wyf, er this. 
And many a mayden, slayn hir self, alias ! 
Rather than with her body doon trespas ? 
Yis certeynly ; lo, stories beren witnes. 
Whan thritty tirauntz ful of cursed nes 11680 

Hadde slayn Phidon in Athenes atte fest. 
They comaunded his doughtres to arest, 
And bryngen hem biforn hem in despit 
Al naked, to fulfille her foule delyt ; 
And in her fadres blood they made hem daunce 
Upon the pavyment, God gave hem meschaunce. 
For which these woful maydens, ful of drede, 
Rather than they wold lese her maydenhede, 
Thoy prively ben stert into a welle, 

11079. stories beren witnes. They are all taken from IHeronymus contra 
Jovimanum^ I. i. c. 39* 



324 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And drenched hem selfen, as the bookes telle, 11690 

" They of'Mecene leet enquere and seeke 
Of Lacidomye fifty maydenes eeke, 
On which they wolden doon her lecclierie ; 
But was ther noon of al that conipanye 
That sclie nas slayn, and with a good entente 
Ches rather for to deye, than to assente 
To ben oppressed of hir inaydenhede. 
Why schuld I than to deyen ben in drede ? 

" Lo eek the tyraunt Aristochdes, 
That loved a niayden heet Stimphahdes, 11700 

Whan that hir father slayn was on a night, 
Unto Dyanes temple goth sche right, 
And hent the ymage in hir hondes tuo. 
Fro which ymage wold sche never go, 
No wight might of it hir hondes race, 
Til sche was slayn right in the selve place. 
Now sith that maydens hadde such despit 
To ben defouled with mannes foul delit, 
^V el aught a wyf rather hir self to sle, 
Tlian be defouled, as it thenketh me. 11710 

" What schal I seyn of Hasdrubaldes wyf, 
That at Cartage byraft hir self the lyf ? 
For whan sche saugh that Romayns wan the touu, 
Sche took hir children alle, and skipte adoun 
Into the fuyr, and ches rather to deye, 
Thau eny Romayn dide hir vilonye, 

" Hath nought Lucresse slayn hir self, alias ! 
At Rome, whanne sche oppressid was 
Of Tarquyn ? for hir thought it was a schame 
To lyven, whan sche hadde lost hir name. 11720 

" The seven maydens of Milesie also 
Han slayn hem self for verray drede and wo, 
Rather than folk of Gawle hem schulde oppresse. 
Mo than a thousand stories, as I gesse, 
Couthe I now telle as touching this matiere. 

'* Whan Habradace was slayn, his wif so deere 
Hir selven slough, and leet hir blood to glyde 
In Habradaces woundes, deepe and wyde ; 
And seyde, my body atte leste way 

Ther schal no wight defoulen, if I may. 11730 

What schold I mo ensampies herof sayn ? 
Seththen so many han hem selven slayn 
Wei rather than they wolde defouled be, 
i wol conclude that it is best for me 
To slen my self than be defouled thus. 
i wol be trewe unto Arviragus, 



rUK FRANKELEYNES TALE. 325 

Or rather sle iny self in soin manere, 

As (lede Deiiiocionis doughter deere, 

Byt'ause sche Mould nought defouled be. 

O Cedasus, it is ful i2:ret pite 11740 

To reden how thy doughteren dyed, alias! 

That slowe hem self for suche maner caas. 

As gret a pite was it or wel more, 

The Tlieban mayden, that for Nichonore 

Mir selven slough, right for such maner wo. 

Another Theban mayden dede right so, 

For oon of Macidone had hir oppressed, 

Sche with hire deth hire maydenhede redressed. 

"What schal I sayn of Niceratis wif, 

That for such caas biraft hir self hir lyf ? 11750 

How trewe eek was to Alcebiades 

His love, that for to dyen rather dies, 

Than for to suffre his body unburied be ? 

Lo, which a wif was Alceste ? " quod sche, 

" What saith Omer of good Penolope ? 

Al Grece knoweth of hir chastite. 

Paradi, of Laodomya is writen thus, 

Than whan at Troye was slayn Prothesilaus 

No lenger wol sche lyve after his day. 

The same of noble Porcia telle 1 may ; 11760 

Withoute Brutus could sche not lyve. 

To whom sche had al hool hir herte gyve. 

The parfyt wyfhod of Artemesye 

Honoured is thurgh al the Barbaric 

O Teuta queen, thy wifly chastite 

To aile wyves a mirour be." 

Thus playned Dorigen a day or tweye, 
Purposyng ever that sche wolde deye ; 
But natheles upon the thridde night 
Horn cam Arviragus, the worthy knight, 11770 

And asked hir why that sche wept so sore ; 
And sche gan wepe ever lenger the more. 
•' Alias 1 " quod sche, " that ever was 1 born 1 
Thus have I sayd;" quod sche, " thus have I sworn • ■" 
And told him al, as ye han herd biforn ; 

11761. The Harl. Ms. reads thiB line, apparently incorrectly, withoute Bruits 
krjnde sche myght not lyve. 

11765 Tmtu. The Harl. Ms. reatld O Thena. 

1 1766. To alle wyves. " After this verse the two following are found iu 
Be vera] M.ss.— 

The same thing I say of Bilia, 
Of Rhodogone and of Valeria. 

But as ilu;y are wanting in Mss. A. C. i Ask. 1, 2, HA., I was not unwilUngto 
leav.« them out.'^ —Tyrwhitt' 



326 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



It needeth nought reherse it you no more. 

This housbond with glad chiere in good wise 
Answered and sayde, as I schal you devyse. 
" Is ther aught elles, Dorigen, but this ? " 11779 

'* Nay, nay," quod sche, " God me so rede and wis, 
This is to moche, and it were Goddes wille." 
•* Ye, wyf," quod he, '' let slepe that may be stille, 
It may be wel peraunter yet to day, 
Ye schal your trouthe holden, by my fay. 
For God so wisely have mercy on me, 
I had wel lever i-stekid for to be. 
For verray love which that I to you have, 
But if ye scholde your trouthe kepe and save. < 
Trouthe is the highest thing that men may kepe." 
But with that word he gan anoon to wepe, 11790 

And sayde, " I yow forbede up peyne of deth, 
That never while ye lasteth lyf or breth. 
To no wight telle you of this aventure. 
As I may best I wil my woo endure. 
Ne make no contenaunce of hevynesse, 
That folk of you may deme harm or gesse." 
And forth he clej^ed a squyer and a mayde. 
*' Go forth anoon with Dorigen," he sayde, 
'* And bryngeth hir to such a place anoon." 
Thay take her leve, and on her wey they gon ; 11800 
But thay ne wiste why sche thider went, 
He nolde no wight tellen his entent. 

This squyer, which that hight Aurilius, 
On Dorigen that was so amerous, 
Of aventure happed hire to mete 
Amyd the toun, right in the quyke strete ', 
As sche was boun to goon the wey forth-right 
Toward the gardyn, ther as sche had hight. 
And he was to the gardyn- ward also ; 
For wel he spyed whan sche wolde go 1 1810 

Out of hir hous, to eny maner place. 
But thus thay mette of adventure or grace, 

11802. He 7Mlde. '< After this verse ed. Ca. 2 has the six followiug : 

Peraveiiture au hepe of you, I wis, 

Will holden him a lewed man in this, 

That he woll put his wife in jeopardie. 

Herkneth the tale, or ye upon him crie. 

Sche may have better fortune than you semeth ; 

And whan that ye han herde the tale demeth. 
These lines are more in the style and manner of Chaucer than interpolations 
generally are ; but as I do not remember to have found them in any MS., I 
could not receive them into the text. I think, too, that if they were written 
by him, ho would probably, upon more mature consideration, have suppressed 
them, aa unnecessarily anticipating the catastrophe of the tale." — TrywhiiC, 



THE FRANKELEYNES TALE. *527 

And be salueth hir with glad entent, 

And askith hire whider-ward sclie went. 

And sche answered, half as sche were mad, 

* Unto the gardyn, as myn hoiisbond bad, 

My trouthe for to holde alias ! alias I " 

Aurilius gan wondren on this caas, 

And in his hert had gret compassioun 

Of hire, and of hir lamentacioun, 1 1820 

And of Arviragus the worthy knight, 

That bad hir hold al that sche liadde hight, 

So loth him was his wif schuld breke hir trouthe. 

And in his hert he caught of this gret routhe, 

Consideryng the best on every syde, 

That fro his lust yet were him lever abyde, 

Than doon so high a cheerlissch wrecchednesse 

Agayns frauncliis of alle gentilesce ; 

For which in fewe wordes sayd he thus. 

" Madame, saith to your lord Arviragus, 11830 

That sith I se his grete gentilesse 

To you, and eek 1 se wel your distresse, 

That him were lever have schame (and that were 

routhe) 
Than ne to me schulde breke youre trouthe, 
1 have wel lever ever to suffre woo. 
Than I departe the love bytwix yow tuo, 
1 yow relesse, madame, into your hond 
Quyt every seurement and every bond 
That ye han maad to me as herbiforn, 
Sith thilke tyme which that ye were born. 11840 

My trouthe I plight, I schal yow never repreve 
Of no byhest, and her I take my leve, 
As of the trewest and best wif 
That ever yit I knew in al my lyf. 
But every wyf be war of hir byhest ; 
On Dorigen remembreth atte lest. 
Thus can a squyer doon a gentil dede, 
As wel as can a knyght, withouten drede." 

Sche thanketh him upon hir knees al bare, 
And hoom unto hir housbond is sche fare, IISSO 

And told mm al, as ye han herd me sayd ; 
And be ye siker, he was so wel apayed, 
That it were impossible me to write. 
What schuld 1 lenger of this caas endite ? 
Arviragus and Dorigen his wyf 
In sovereyn blisse leden forth here lyf, 
>'ever eft ne was ther anger hem bytwen ; 
He cherisschoth hir as though she were a queen, 



828 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Of these tuo folk ye gete of me nomore. 11860 

Aurilius, that his cost hath al for-lorn, 
Curseth the tyme that aver he was l)orn. 
** Alias ! " quod he, " alias, that byhigiit 
Of pnred gold a thousand pound of wight 
Unto this philosophre 1 how schal I doo ? 
I se no more, but that I am for-doo. 
Myn heritage moot I needes selle, 
And ben a begger, her may I not duelle, 
And schamen al my kynrede in this place, 
But I of him may gete better grace. 11870 

But natheles I wol of him assay 
At certeyn dayes yeer by yer to pay, 
And thanke him of his grete curtesye. 
My trouthe wol I kepe, I wol not lye." 
With herte soor he goth unto his cofre, 
And broughte gold unto this philosophre, 
The value of fyf hundred pound, I gesse, 
And him bysecheth of his gentilesce 
To graunte him dayes of the remenaunt ; 
And sayde, " Maister, I dar wel make a vaunt, 11880 
I fayled never of my trouthe as yit. 
For sikerly my dettes schal be quyt 
Towardes yow, how so that ever I fare 
To goon and begge in my kurtil bare ; 
But wolde ye vouchesauf upon seurte 
Tuo yer or thre for to respite me. 
Than were I wel, for elles moste I selle 
Myn heritage, ther is nomore to telle." 

This philosophre sobrely answerde, 
And seyde thus, when he these wordes herde ; 11890 
•* Have I not holden covenaunt unto the ? " 
** Yis certes, wel and trewely," quod he. 
*' Hastow nought had thy lady as the liketh ? " 
** No, no," quod he, and sorwfully he siketh. 
*' What was the cause ? tel me, if thou can." 
Aurilius his tale anoon bygan, 
And told him al as ye han herd bifore. 
It needeth nat to you reherse it more. 
He sayde, Arviragus of gentilesse 

Had lever dye in sorwe and distresse, 11000 

Than that his wyf were of hir trouthe fals. 
The sorwe of Dorigen he tolde him als. 
How loth hir was to ben a wikked wyf. 
And that sche lever had han lost hir lyf ; 
Axid that hir trouthe sche swor thurgh innocence % 



THE SECOVNDE NONNES TALE. .^20 



Sche never erst hadde herd speke of apparenco ; 
" That made me han of hir so grete pyte. 
And right as frely as he sente hir to me, 
As frely sent I hir to him agayn. 

This is al and som, ther is no more to sayn." 11990 

The philosophre answerde, " Leve brother, 
Everich of yow dede gentilly to other ; 
Thow art a squyer, and he is knight, 
But God forbede, for his bhsful might, 
But if a clerk couthe doon as gentil dede 
As wel as eny of you, it is no drede. 
Sire, I relesse the thy thousand pound, 
As thou right now were crope out of the ground, 
Ne never er now ne haddest knowen me. 
For, sire, I wil not take a peny of the 11920 

For al my craft, ne nought for al my travayle ; 
Thou hast y-payed wel for my vitayle. 
It is 3''-nough, and far wel, have good day." 
And took his hors, and forth he goth his way. 
Lordynges, this questioun wolde I axe now. 
Which was the most free, as thinketh yow ? 
Now telleth me, er that I ferther wende. 
I can no more, my tale is at an ende. 

THE SECOUNDE NONNES TALE. 

The minister and the norice unto vires, 
Which that men clepe in Englisch ydeinesse, 11930 

The porter at the gates is of delicis ; 
To escliiewe, and by her contrary hire oppresse, 
That is to say, by leful besynesse, 
Wel oughte we to do al oure entente. 
Lest that the fend thurgh ydelness us hente. 

11908. And right as. Ms. Harl. reads this and the next line,— 
BycauBe hir housebond eente hir to me, 
And right as frely sent I hir to him ageyn. 

111*26. Which was the most .free. Tyrwhitt remarks that, " Tho same qiies- 
lion is stated in the conclusion of Hoccace's tale. Philoc. 1, v. Dubiiasi ora 
qual di costoro fuBse maggior liberalita, (S-c. The queen determines in favor 
t.f the husband." It may be further ob.served that this conclusion of the 
story gives it the character of those questiona which were usually <lebated 
ill the medieval courts of love. 

The Secounde Nonnes Tale. This is almost a literal translation from the 
life of St. Cecilia in the Lt<jenda Aurta. It appears to have been llrtit lom- 
posed by Chaucer as a separate work, and is enumerated as such in the Le- 
uende of Good Women, 1. 426. In two manuscripts quoted by Tyrwhitt, some 
lines, evidently not by Chaucer, arc prefixed as an introduction. It may be 
added that here thw Tiarleian Ms. differs from Tyrwhitt's edition in the ar- 
rangement of the tales, which renderb it impossible to continue my original 
iiitcuLiou of preserving 'i'yi vyhiit's numbering of the lines. 



930 T^k CANTERBURY TALES. 

For he that with his thousand cordes slye 
Continuelly us wayteth to byclappe, 
Whan he may man in ydelnes espye. 
He can so hghtly cacche him in his trappe. 
Til that a man be hent right by the lappe, 11U40 

He is nought ware the fend hath him in hondo ; 
Wei oughte we wirche, and ydelnes withstonde. 

And though men dredde never for to deye, 
Yet seen men wel by resoun douteles, 
That ydelnes is rote of sloggardye, 
Of which ther cometh never good encres ; 
And sin that slouth he holdeth in a lees, 
Oonly to sleep, and for to ete and drynke, 
And to devoure al that other swynke. 

And for to put us from such ydelnes, 11950 

That cause is of so gret confusioun, 
I have her doon my faithful busynes 
After the legende in translacioun 
Right of this glorious lif and passioun, 
Tliou with thi garlond, wrought with rose and lylye, 
The mene I, mayde and martir Cecilie ; 

And thou, that flour of virgines art alle, 
Of whom that Bernard lust so wel to write, 
To the at my bygynnyng first I calle ; 
Thou comfort of us wrecches, do me endite llOfiO 

Thy maydenes deth, that wan thurgh hire merite 
Theternal lif, and of tho feend victorie. 
As man may after reden in hir storie. 

Thou mayde and moder, doughter of thy Pone, 
Thow welle of mercy, synful soules cure, 
* In whom that God of bountes chees to wone ; 
Thou humble and heyh over every creature, 
Thou nobelest so ferforth oure nature. 
That no disdeyn the maker had of kynde 11969 

His sone in blood and fleissh to clothe and wynde. 

Withinne the cloyster of thi blisful sydes, 
Took mannes schap the eternal love and pees. 
That of the trine compas loid and guyde is, 
Whom erthe, and see, and heven out of relees 
Ay herien ; and thou, virgine wemmeles. 
Bar of thy body, and dwellest may den pure. 
The creatour of every creature. 

Assembled is in the magnificence 
With mercy, goodnes, and with such pitee, 
That thou, that art the soune of excellence, 11980 

11958. Brrnnrd. Some of the most eloquent of the sermons of St. iJcriiard 
are on lUe ualivit^ aud ivusamptiou of the Virgin 



THE SECOUND^ NONNES TALE. 831 

Not oonly helpest hem that prayon the, 
But often tyme of thy benignite 
Ful frely, er that men thin help biseche, 
Thou gost biforn, and art her lyfes leche. 

Now help, thou meke and blisful faire mayde 
Me flemed wrecche, in desert of galle ; 
Thenk on the womman Cananee, that sayde 
That whelpes ete some of the crommes alle 
That from her lordes table ben i-falle ; 
And though that I, unworthy sone of Eve, 11990 

Be synful, yet accepte my bileve. 

And for that faith is deth withouten werkis, 
So for to werken give me witt and space, 
That I be quit fro thennes that most derk is ; 
O thou, that art so fair and ful of grace. 
Be myn advocat in that hihe place, 
Ther is withouten ende is songe Osanne, 
Thou Cristes moder, doughter deere of Anne. 

And of thi light my soule in prisoun light, 
That troubled is by the contagioun 12000 

Of my body, and also by the wight 
Of everich lust and fals affeccioun ; ' 

O heven of ref uyt, o salvacioun 
Of hem that ben in sorwe and in distresse. 
Now help, tor to my werk I wil me dresse. 

Yet pray I you that reden that I write, 
Porgeve me, that I doo no diligence 
This ilke story subtilly to endite. 
For bothe have I the wordes and sentence 
Of him, that at the seintes reverence 12010 

The story wroot, and folwen hir legende, 
And pray yow that ye wol ray werk amende. 

First wol I yow the name of seint Cecilie 
Eipoune, as men may in hir story se ; 
It is to say on Englisch, hevenes lilie. 
For pure chastenesse of virginite, 
Or for sche witnesse hadde of honeste 
And grene of conscience, and of good fame 
The soote savour, lilie was her name. 

Or Cecile is to say, the way of blynde, 12020 

For sche ensample was by way of techynge ; 
Or elles Cecily, as I writen fynde, 

11987. the womman Cananee. The Harl. Ms. r«3ftd8 erroneously tht wom- 
man Catuice. 

12013. the nmne. Tlicsi; iiuiming explanations of proper names we?^' very 
fashionable in the middle ages. In the present instance, they are trauf lated 
directly from the piologue to the Latin legend. 



832 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Is joyned by a maner eonjoynynge 

Of heven and lya, and here in figuryng'i 

The heven is sette for thought of holynesse, 

And lya, for hir lastyng besynesse. 
Cecili may eek be seyd in this manere, 

Wantyng of blyndnes, for hir grete light 

Of sapience, and of thilke thewes cleere. 

Or elles lo, this maydenes name bright .^.2030 

Of heven and los comes, for which by right 

Men might hir wel the heven of peple calle, 

Ensample of goode and wise werkes alle. 
For leos peple in Englissh is to say ; 

And right as men may in the heven see 

The Sonne and moone, and sterres every way, 

Right so men gostly in this mayden free 

Been of faith the magnanimite, 

And eek the clernes hool of sapience, 

And sondry werkes. bright of excellence. 12040 

And right so as these philosofres wryte, 

That heven is swyft and round, and eek brennynge, 

Right so was faire Cecily the whyte 

Ful swyft and besy ever in good werkynge. 
And round and hool in good perseverynge, 

And brennyng ever in charite ful bright ; 
Now have I yow declared what sche hight. 

This mayden bright Cecilie, as hir lyf saith, 
Was comen of Romayns and of noble kynde, 
And from hir cradel fostred in the faith 12050 

Of Crist, and bar his Gospel in hir mynde ; 
Sche never cessed, as I writen fynde, 
Of hire prayer, and God to love and drede, 
Byseching him to kepe hir maydenhede. 

And whan this mayde schuld unto a man 
Y-wedded be, that was ful yong of age, 
Which that i-cleped was Valirian, 
And day was comen of hir mariage, 
Sche ful devout and humble in hir cuirage, 
Under hir robe of gold, that sat ful faire, 12060 

lladde next hir fleissh i-clad hir in an heire. 

And whil the organs made melodie, 
To God alloon in herte thus sang sche ; 
** O Lord, my soule and eek my body gyo 
Unwemmed. lest that I confounded be. 
And for his love that deyde upon a tre, 
Every secound or tliridde day sche faste, 
Ay biddy ng in hire orison ns ful faste. 
The nyght cam, and to bedde most boLk- ;^oon 



THE SECOUNDE NONNES TALE. 



833 



With hir housbond, as oft is the inanere, 12070 

And prively to him sche sayde anoon ; 

** O swete and wel biloved spouse deere, 

Ther is a counseil, and ye wold it heere, 

Which that right fayn I wold unto you saye, 

So that ye swere ye schul it not bywraye." 

Valirian gan fast unto hir swere, 
That for no caas ne thing that mighte be, 
He scholde never mo bywreye hire ; 
And thanne at erst thus to him sayde sche ; 
" I have an aungel which that loveth me, 12080 

That with gret love, wher so I wake or slepe, 
Is redy ay my body for to kepe ; 

*' And if that he may felen, out of drede, 
That ye me touche or love in vilonye, 
He right anoon wil sle you with the dede, 
And in youre youthe thus schulde ye dye. 
And if that ye in clene love me gye, 
He wol yow love as me, for your clennesse. 
And schewe to you his joye and his brightnesse." 

Valirian, corrected as God wolde, 12090 

Answerde agayn : ** If I schal truste the, 
Let me that aungel se, and him biholde ; 
And if that it a verray aungel be, 
Than wol I doon as thou hast prayed me ; 
And if thou love another man, forsothe 
Right with this sword than wol I slee you bothe.'* 

Cecilie answerd anoon right in this wise ; 
** If that yow list, the aungel schul ye see, 
So that ye trowe on Crist, and you baptise ; 
Goth forth to Via Apia," quod sche, 12100 

** That fro this toun ne stant but rayles thre, 
And to the pore folkes that ther duelle 
Saith hem right thus, as that I schal you telle. 

*' Tell hem, I Cecilie yow unto hem sent. 
To schewen yow the good Urban the olde. 
For secre needes, and for good entente ; 
And whan that ye seint Urban han byholde, 
Tel him the wordes which that I to yow tolde ; 
And whan that he hath purged you fro synne, 
Than schul ye se that aungel er ye twynne." 12110 

Valirian is to the place y-goon, 
And right as him was ta,ught by his lernynge, 
He fond this holj^ old Urban anoon 



12083. This line hft8 been omitted by the scrtbo of the llarl. Ma., the next 
line tliere coiumeuciug, // .ye nw (vucfie. 



334 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Among the seyntes buriels lotynge j 
And he anoon withoute taryinge 
Did his message, and whan that he it tolde, 
Urban for joye his handes gan upholde. 

The teres from his eyghen let he falle ; 
*' Almighty Lord, O Jhesu Crist," quod he, 
** Sower of chaste counseil, herde of us alle, y^V2^ 

The fruyt of thilke seed of chastite 
That thou hast sowe in Cecilie, tak to the ; 
Loo, like a busy bee withouten gyle 
The serveth ay thin owne thral Cecile. 

" For thilke spouse, that oche took right now 
Ful lyk a fers lyonn. sche sendeth here 
As meek as ever was eny lamb to yow." 
And with that word anoon ther gan appere 
An old man, clad in white clothes clere. 
That had a book with lettres of gold in hondo, 121^0 
And gan to-forn Valirian to stonde. 

Valirian, as deed, fyl doun for drede, 
Whan he him say ; and he him up hente tho, 
And on his book right thus he gan to rede ; 
'' On Lord, o feith, oon God withouten mo. 
On Cristendom, and oon fader of alle also, 
Aboven alle, and over alle every where ; " 
This wordes al with golde writen were. 

Whan this was red, than seide this olde man, 
" Levest thou this thing or no ? say ye or naye," 12140 
*' I leve al this thing," quod Valirian, 
** For sother thing than this, I dare wel save. 
Under the heven no wight thenken maye." 
Tho vanysched the old man, he nyste where, 
And pope Urban him cristened right there. 

Valirian goth home, and fint Cecilie 
Withinne his chambre with an aungel stonde. 
This aungel had of roses and of lilie 
Corounes tuo, the which he bar in honde, 
And first to Cecilie, as I understonde, 121 ?0 

He gaf that oon, and after can he take 
That other to Valirian hir make. 

" With body clene, and with unwemmed thought, 
Kepeth ay wel these corouns tuo," quod he, 
** Fro paradys to you I have hem brought, 
Ne never moo ne schul they roten be, 

12114. lotynge. The Latin legend has, inter sepulchra martynim latitantem 
invenit. 

12138-12144. These lines are omitted in Ms. Harl by the inadvertence ol 
the scribe. 



TTIE SECOUNDE NONNES TALE. 335 

Ne leese here swoote savour trusteth me, 
Ne never wig^ht schall seen hem with his ye, 
But he be chast, and hate vilonye. 

"And thou, Valirian, for thou so soone 121G0 

Assentedlst to good counseil, also 
Say what the Hst, and thou schalt have thi boone." 
" I have a brother," quod VaHrian tho, 
" That in this world I love no man so, 
I pray yow that my brother may have grace 
To knowe the trouthe as I doo in this place." 

The aungel sayde, " God liketh thy request, 
And bothe with the palme of martirdom 
Ye schullen come unto his blisful feste." 
And with that word, Tiburce his brother com. 12170 
And whan that he the savour undernom, 
Which that the roses and the lilies cast, 
. Withinne his hert he gan to wondre fast. 

And sayde, " I wondre this tyme of the yer, 
Whennes this soote savour cometh so 
Of rose and lilies, that I smelle her ; 
For though I had hem in myn hondes tuo, 
The savour might in me no depper go. 
The swete smel, that in myn hert I fynde, 
Hath chaunged me al in another kynde." 12180 

Valirian sayd, '* Tuo corouns have we, 
Snow- why t and rose-reed, that schinen cleere, 
Whiche that thine eyghen han no might to see ; 
And as thou smellest hem thurgh my prayere. 
So schalt thou seen hem, lieve brothere deere, 
If it so be thou wilt withouten slouthe 
Bilieven aright, and knowen verray trouthe," 

Tyburce answerde, " Says thou thus to me 
In sothenes, or in drem I herkne this ? " 
*'Indremes," quod Valirian, *' han we be I'JI'JO 

Unto this tyme, brother myn, i-wys ; 
But now at erst in trouthe oure duellyng is." 
•' How wost thou this," quod Tyburce, " and in wliat 

wise?" 
Quod Valirian, " That schal I the devyse. 

" The aungel of God hath me trouthe y-taught, 
Which thou schalt seen, if that thou wiU reneye 
The ydols, and be clene, and elles nought." 
And of the miracles of these corones tweye 

12169. hlisful feste. This is the reading of the Karl. andLans'l. Mss. TUo 
worda of the T.atin legend are,— Cui angelus, Placet Domino petilio tua, et 
ambo cum palnia niartyrii ad Dominum veni6tis. Tyrwhitt reads rest. 

12198. The lines which follow, and which interrupt the narration very 



836 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Seynt Ambrose in his prefaa list to seye ; 

Solempnely this noble doctour deere 12t>00 

Coiriendeth it, and saith in this maneere." 

"The palme of martirdom for to receyve, 
Seynt Cecilie, fulfilled of Goddes gifte, 
The world and eek hir chamber gan sche wey ve ; 
Witnes Tyburces and Cecilies shrifte, 
To whiche God of his bounte wolde schifte 
Corounes tuo, of floures wel smellynge, 
And made his aungel home the croune brynge." 

The mayde hath brought this men to blisse above ; 
The world hath wist what it is worth certeyn, 12210 
Devocioun of chastite to love. 
Tho schewed him Cecilie al open and pleyn, 
That alle y doles nys but thing in veyn : 
For thay ben doumbe. and therto they ben deve. 
And chargeth bim his ydoles for to leve. 

" Who so that troweth not this, a best he is," 
Quod this Tyburce, "if that I schal not lye." 
And sche gan kisse his brest that herde this, 
And was ful glad he couthe trouthe espye ; 
" This day I take the for myn allye," 12220 

Sayde this blisful faire mayde deere ; 
And after that sche sayde as ye may heere. 

" Lo, right so as the love of Crist," quod sche, 
' ' Made me thy brotheres wyf , right in that wyse 
Anoon for myn allye heer take I the, 
Sin that thou wilt thyne ydoles despise. 
Go with thi brother now and the baptise, 
And make the clene, so that thou mowe biholde 
The aungeles face, of which thy brother tolde." 

Tyburce answerde, and sayde, '* Brother dere, 122;i0 
First tel me whider I schal, and to what man." 
" To whom ? " quod he, " com forth with good cheere, 
I wol the lede unto the pope Urban." 
" Til Urban ? brother myn Valirian," 
Quod Tiburce, " wilt thou me thider lede ? 
Me thenketh that it were a wonder dede. 

" Ne menist thou nat Urban," quod he tho, 
** That is so ofte dampned to the deed, 
And woneth in halkes alway to and fro, 
And dar nought oones putte forth his heed ? 12240 

Men schold him brenne in a fuyr so reed, 

awkwardly, are translated almost literally from the Latin legend, in which 
'I'yrwhitt supposes them to have been originally an intei-polation. 

12237. A^e meuist. De illo Urbane dicis, qui totiens damuatusebt, el adbuc 
It htebrifl commoratur ?— Xaf. Leg. 



THE SECOUNDE NoNNES TALE. 'ih'7 



If he \s re founde, or if men might him spye, 
And we also to here him companye. 

" And whil we seken thilke divinite, 
That is i-hyd in heven prively, 
Alp:ate i-brent in this world schuld we be." 
To whom Cecilie answerde boldely, 
Men mighten dreden wel and skilfully 
This lyf to lese, myn oughne dere brother, 
If this were lyvyng oonly and noon other. 12250 

" But ther is better lif in other place, 
That never schal be lost, ne drede the nought ; 
Which Goddes sone us tolde thurgh his grace, 
That fadres sone that alle thing hath wrought ; 
And al that wrought is with a skilful thought,. 
The gost, that from the fader gan procede, 
Hath sowled hem withouten eny drede. 

" By word and miracle hilie Goddes sone, 
Whan he was in this world, declared heere, 
That ther was other lyf ther men may wone." 12200 
To whom answerde Tyburce, *' O suster deere, 
Ney seydest thou right now in this manere, 
Ther nys but oon God, o Lord, in sothfastnesse, 
And now of thre how maystow here witnesse ?" 

" That schal I telle," quod sche, *' er that I go. 
Right as a man hath sapiences thre. 
Memorie, engin, and intellect also, 
So in oo being in divinito 
Thre persones may ther right wel be." 
Tho gan sche him ful besily to preche 12270 

Of Cristes come, and of his peynes teche. 

And many pointes of his passioun ; 
How Goddes sone in this world was withholde 
To doon mankynde pleyn remissioun, 
That was i-bouude in synne and cares colde. 
Al this thing sche unto Tyburce tolde. 
And after this Tyburce in good entente, 
With Valirian to pope Urban he wente. 

That thanked God, and with glad hert and light 
He cristened him, and made him in that place 12280 
Parfyt in his lernynge, Goddes knyght. 
And after this Tiburce gat such grace, 

12247. boldely. The. Harl. Ms. reads hodyly. 

r2'J66. sapiences thre. In the origiual Latin it is, Respondit (Jecilia, Sicut 
in uiiH honiinis sapientia sunt tria, scilicet iiigenium, niemoria, et intellectus, 
Bic iu una divinitatis essentia ties personse esse possent. In 1. 15807, tho 
Harl. Ma. reads erroneously eyen for engin. 

12271. came. So the Harl. Ms., correctly. In the Lat. legend it is, Tune 
oepit ei de adveniu filii Dei ot jiassione pra^dicare. Tyrwhitt reads siyul€. 

22 



P-^y THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



That every day he say in tyme and space 
The aun{j:;el of God, and every uianer boone 
That he God asked, it was sped ful soone. 

It were ful hard by ordre for to sayne 
How ujaijy woudres Jesus for hem wroughte ; 
But atte last, to tellen schort and playne, 
Tiie sergeantz of the toun of Rome hem sough te, 
And hem byforn Ahnacho tht^ prefect broughte, 12290 
Wliicli hem apposed, and knew alle here entente, 
And to the yiuage of Jubiter hem sente ; 

And saide, " Who so wil not sacrifise, 
Swope of his heved, this my sentence heere." 
A noon these martires, that I you devyse, 
Oon Maximus, that was an officere 
Of the prefectes, and his corniculere, 
Hem hent, and whan he forth the seyntes laddc, 
Him self he wept for pite that he hadde. 

Whan Maximus had herd the seintes lore, 12300 

He gat him of his tormentoures leve, 
And bad hem to his hous withouten more ; 
And with her preching, er that it were eve 
Thay gonne fro the tormentoures to reve, 
And fro Maxime, and fro his folk echoone, 
The false faith, to trowe in God alloone. 

Cecilie cam, whan it was waxen night 
With prestis, that hem cristenid alle in feere ; 
And afterward, whan day was waxen light, 
Cecilie hem sayde with a ful stedefast cheie ; 13310 

" Now, Cristes owne knyghtes leef and deere, 
Cast al away the werkes of derknes. 
And armith you in armur of brightnes. 

"Ye han forsothe y-doon a greet batayle : 
Youre cours is doon, your faith han ye conserved \ 
Goth to the coroun of lyf that may not fayle ; 
The rightful jugge, which that ye han served, 
Schal geve it yow, as ye han it deserved." 
And whan this thing was sayd, as I devyse, 
Men ladde hem forth to doon the sacrifise. 12320 

But whan they were to the place y-brought. 
To telle schortly the conclusioun, 
They nolde encense ne sacrifice right nought, 
But on her knees they setten hem adoun. 
With humble hert and sad devocioun. 
And leften bothe her heedes in that place \ 

12297. corniculere. TheHarl. M6. has co«7iceiZere. 

12302. bad. Tyrwldtt reads lad , and the I^ansd. Ms, has ftowWe. 



THE SECOUNDE NONNES TALE. 339 



Ilere soules wenten to the king of grace. 

This Maximus, that say this thing betyde, 
With pitous teeres tolde it anoon right, 
That he here soules saugh to heven glyde 12330 

With aungels, ful of clernes and of hght ; 
And witli his word converted many a wight. 
For which Almachius dede him so bete 
With whippes of leed. til he his life gan lete. 

Cecilie him took, and buried him anoon 
By Tiburce and Valirian softely, 
Withinne hire berieng place, under the stoon. 
And after this Almachius hastily 
Bad his ministres fecchen openly 

Cecilie, so that sche might in his presence 12340 

Doon sacrifice, and Jubiter encense. 

But they, converted at hir wise lore, 
Wepten ful sore, and gaven ful credence 
Unto hir word, and cryden more and more , 
" Crist, Goddes sone, without difference, 
Is verray God, this is al oure sentence. 
That hath so good a servaunt him to serve ; 
Thus with oon vols we trowen, though we sterve,' 

Almachius, that herd of this doynge, 
Bad fecchen Cecilie, that he might hir se ; 13350 

And alther-first, lo, this was his axinge ; 
" What maner womman art thou ? " quod he. 
" I am a gentil- womman born," quod sche. 
" I axe the," quod he, " though the it greve, 
Of thi religioun and of thi byleve." 

'* Ye han bygonne your questioun folily," 
Quod sche, " that wolden tuo answers conclude 
In oo demaunde ; ye axen lewedly." 
Almache answerde to that similitude, 
" of whens cometh thin answering so rude ? " 12300 
'* Of whens? " quod sche, whan sche was i-freyued, 
**Of conscience, and of good faith unfeyned." 

Almachius sayde, " Takest thou noon heede 
Of my power ? " and sche answerde him this ; 
" Youre might," quod sche, " fuUitel is to drede; 
For every mortal mannes power nys 
But lyk a bladder ful of wynd i-wis ; 
For with a nedeles poynt, whan it is bio we, 
May al the best of it be layd ful lowe." 

12333- so bete. The Lansd. Ms. has so to-hete; and Tyrwhltt adopte dede 
Mmto-bete. .,.,.„., 

12334. whippes of leed. Eum pZumfeaiis tamdiu caedi fecit quouequo spir- 
Itura excussit.— La^ Leg, 



/ 



840 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



** Ful wrongfully bygonnest thou," quod he, 12870 
*' And yet in wrong is thy perseveraunce. 
Wostow nought how cure mighty princes fre 
Han thus comaunded and maad ordinaunce, 
Tliat every cri&ten wight schal han penaunce, 
But if that he his Cristendom withseye, 
And goon al quyt, if he wil it reueye ? " 

" Youre princes erre, as youre nobleye doth," 
Quod tho CeciUe ', " and with a wood sentence 
Ye make us gulty, and it is nought sotli ; 
For ye that knowen wel oure innocence, 123^0 

Forasmoche as we doon ay reverence 
To Crist, and for we here a Cristen name, 
Ye putten on us a crim and eek a blame. 

" But we that knowen thilke name so 
For vertuous, we may it not withseye." 
Almache sayde, *' Cheese oon of these tuo, 
Do sacrifice or Cristendom reneye, 
That thou mow now eschapen by that weye." 
At which the holy blisful faire mayde 
Gan for to laughe, and to the jugge sayde ; 12390 

" O jugge confus in tliis nycete, 
Wilt thou that I refuse innocence ? 
To make me awikked wight," quodsche. 
'* Lo, he dissimuleth heer in audience, 
He starith and woodith in his advertence." 
To whom Almachius sayde, " Unsely wrecche, 
Ne wostow nought how fer my miglit may strecche ? 
Han nought our mighty princes to me y-given, 
Ye bothe power and eek auctorite 

To maken folk to deyen or to lyven ? • 12400 

Why spekestow so proudly than to me ? " 
" I speke not but stedefastly," quod sche, 
" Nought proudly, for I say, as for my syde, 
We haten deedly thilke vice of pryde. 

And if thou drede nought a soth to lieere, 
Than wol I schewe al openly by right, 
That thou hast maad a ful greet lesyng hoere. 
Thou saist, thy princes han i-give the might 
Bothe for to sleen and eek to quike a wight, 
Thou that ne maist but oonlylif byreve, 12410 

Thou hast noon other power ne no leva, 

"But thou maist sayn, thi princes han the maked 
Minister of deth : for if thou speke of moo, 
Thow liest ; for thy power is ful naked." 
" Do way thy lewednes," sayd Almachius tho, 
12415. lewednes. The Lausd. Ms. reads boldtnes. 



THD SECOUNDE NONNES TALE. 341 

** And sacrifice to oure goddes, er thou go. 

I recehe nought what wrong that thou me j)rofre, 

For I can suffre it as a philosophre. 

" But thilke wronges may I not endure, 
Tliat thou spekis of oure goddis her," quod he. 12420 
Cecihe answered, '* O nice creature, 
Thou saydest no word sins thou spak to me, 
That I ne knew therwith thy nicete. 
And that thou were in every maner wise 
A lewed officer, a vein justise. 

" Tlier lakketh no thing to thin outer eyen 
That thou art blynde ; for thing that we seen alle 
That it is stoon, that men may wel aspien, 
Tliat ilke stoon a god thou wilt it calle. 
I rede the, let thin hond upon it falle, 12430 

And tast it wel, and stoon thou schalt it fynde ; 
Sith that thou seest not with thin eyghen blynde. 

*' It is a schame that the poeple schal 
So scorne the, and laughe at thi folye ; 
For comunly men woot it wel over al. 
That mighty God is in his heven hye ; 
And these ymages, wel thou mayst espie, 
To the ne to hem self may nought profyte, 
For in effect they ben nouglit worth a myte." 

Thise wordes and such other sayde sche ; 12440 

And he wax wroth, and bad men scht)ld hir ledo 
Hom to hir lious ; " And in hir hous," quod he, 
" Brenne hir right in a bath of fiamiiies rede." 
And as he bad, right so was doon the dede ; 
For in a bath thay gonne hir faste schetten. 
And nyght and day greet fuyr tliey under betten. 

The longe night, and eek a day also. 
For al the fuyr, and eek the bathes liete, 
Sche sat al cold, and felte of it no woo, 
It made hir not oon drope for to swete. 12450 

But in that bath hir lif sche moste lete ; 
For he Almachius, with ful wikke entente, 
To al ^en hir in the bath his sondes sente. 

Thre strokes in the nek he smot hir tho 
The tormentour, but for no maner chaunce 
lie luiglit nought smyte hir faire necke a-tuo. 
And for ther was that tyme an ordinaunce 
That no man scholde do man such penaunce 
The ferthe strok to smyten, softe or sore, 
This tormentour ne dorste do no more ; 12460 

But half deed, with hir nekke corven there 
He laft hir lye, and on his way he went. 



S42 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



The cristen folk, which that about hir were, 
With scheetes lian the blood ful faire y-hent ; 
Thre dayes lyved sche in this torment, 
And never cessed hem the faith to teohe, 
That sche had frostred hem, sche gan to preche. 

And hem sche gaf hir moebles and hir thing, 
And to the pojje Urban by took hem tho, 
And sayd, " I axe this of heven kyng, 12470 

To have respit thre dayes and no mo, 
To recomende to yow, er that I go, 
These soules lo, and that I mighte do wirche 
Heer of myn hous perpetuelly a chircho." 

Seynt Urban, with his dekenes prively 
The body fette, and buried it by nighte 
Among his other seyntes honestely. 
Hir hous the chirch of seynt Cecily yit highte ; 
Seynt Urban halwed it, as he vvel mighte ; 
In which into this day in noble wyse 12480 

Men doon to Crist and to his seint servise. 



THE PROLOGE OP THE CHANOUNS YEMAN, 

Whan ended was the lif of seynt Cecile, 
Er we fully had riden fyve myle, 
At Bouglitoun under Blee us gan atake 
A man, that clothed was in clothes blake, 
And under that he had a whit surplice. 
His hakeney, that was a pomely grice, 
So swete, that it wonder was to se. 
It semed he hadde priked myles thre. 
The hors eek that his yyman rood upon, 12490 

So swette, that unnethes might he goon. 
Aboute the peytrel stood the foom ful hye, 
He Avas of foom as flekked as a pye. 
A male tweyfold on his croper lay, 
It semed that he caried litel array, 
Al light for somer rood this worthy man. 
And in myn herte wondren I bigan 
What that he was, til that I understood, 
How that his cloke was sowed unto his hood ; 
For which whan I long had avysed me, 12500 

I demed him som chanoun for to be. 
Hie hat heng at his bak doun by a laas. 
For he had r^den more than trot or paas, 

124C7. fostred. The Karl. Ms. baa suffrtd. 



TiJE PROLOG E OF THE CHANOUNS TEMAN. 343 



lie had i-pryked lik as he were wood. 

A cloote-leef he had under his hood 

For swoot, and JTOr to kepe his heed from hete. 

Bat it was joye for to sc liim swete ; 

His forhed dropped as a stillatorie 

Were ful of plantayn and of peritorie. 

And whanne that he was com, he gan to crie, 12510 

*' God save," quod he, " this joly compciignye ! 

Fast have I priked," quod he, " for your sake, 

Bycause that I wolde you atake, 

To ryden in this mery companye." 

His yeman eek was ful of curtesj'^e, 
And seid, " Sires, now in the morwe tyde 
Out of your ostelry I saugh you ryde. 
And warned heer my lord and soverayn, 
Which that to ryden with yow is ful fayn, 
For his desport ; he loveth daliaunce." 12520 

*' Frend, for thy warnyng Godgeve the good chauuce." 
Sayde oure host, " for certes it wolde seme 
Thy lord were wys, and so I may wel deme ; 
He is ful jocound also dar I leye ; 
Can he ought telle a mery tale or tweye, 
With which he glade may this companye ? " 

" Who, sire? my lord? Ye, ye, withoute lye, 
He can of merthe and eek of jolito 
Not but y-nough ; also, sir, trusteth me, 
And ye him knewe as wel as do I, 12530 

Ye wolde wonder how wel and thriftily 
He coutlie werke, and that in sondry wise. 
He hath take on him many sondry emprise. 
Which were ful hard for eny that is heere 
To bringe aboute, but thay of him it leere. 
As homely as he ryt amonges yow, 
If ye him knewe, it wolde be your prow ; 
Ye nolde nought for-gon his acqueyntaunce 
For moche good, I dar lay in balaunce 
Al that I have in my possessioun. 12540 

He is a man of heigh discressioun, 
I warne yow wel, he is a passyng man." 

" Wel," quod our oost, " 1 pray the, tel me than, 
Is he a clerk, or noon ? tell what he is." 
*' Nay, he is gretter than a clerk i-wis," 
Sayde this yyman, " and in wordes fewe, 
Ost, of liis craft somwhat I wil you schewe. 
I say, my lord can such a subtilite, 
(But al his craft ye may nought wife of me, 
Aad bomwbat helpe I yit to his worchynge), 12600 



844 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Tbat al this ground on which we ben ridynge 
Til that we comen to Caunterbury toun, 
He couthe al clene turnen up so doun, 
And pave it al of silver and of gold." 

And whan this yeman hadde thus i-told 
Unto oure oost, he seyde, '' Bcncdicite ! 
This thing is wonder merveylous to me, 
Syn that this lord is of so heigh prudence, 
Bycause of which men schuld him reverence, 
That of his worschip rekketh he so lite ; l'i560 

liis over slop it is not worth a myte 
As in effect to him, so mot I go ; 
It is al bawdy and to-tore also. 
Why is thi lord so slottisch, I the preye, 
And is of power better clothis to beye, 
If that his dede accorde with thy speche ? 
Telle me that, and that I the biseche," 

*' Why ? " quod this yiman, " wherto ax > ye me ? 

God help me so, for he schal never the, 

(But I wol nought avowe what I say, 12G70 

And therfor kep it secre I yow pray) 

He is to wys in faith, as I bileve. 

Thing that is over-don, it wil nought preve 

Aright, as clerkes sein, it is a vice ; 

Wherfore in that I holde him lewed and nyce. 

For whan a man hath over-greet a witte, 

Ful ofte him happeth to mysusen itte ; 

So doth my lord, and that me greveth sore. 

God it amende, I can say now nomore." 

** Therof no fors, good yeman," quod oure ost, 125b0 

" Syn of the connyng of thi lord thou wost, 

Tel how he doth, I pray the hertily, 

Sin that he is so crafty and so sly. 

Wher dwellen ye, if it to telle be ? " 

" In the subarbes of a toun," quod he, 

" Lurking in hirnes and in lanes blynde, 

Wher as these robbours and these theves by kynde 

Holden here prive ferful residence. 

As thay that dor nought schewen her presence ; 

So faren we, if I schal say the so the." i25!Hj 

" Now," quod oure ost, " yit let me talke to the ; 

Why artow so discoloured on thy face ? " 

*• Peter I " quod he, " God give it harde grace, 

I am so used the fuyr to blowe. 

That it hath chaunged my colour I trowe ^ 

1 am not wont in no mirour to prie, 

But swynke sore, and ierne to uiulti^e. 



THE PBOLOGE OF THE CHANOUNS YEMAN. 



345 



We blondren ever, and pouren in the fuyr, 

And for al that we faile of oure desir, 

For ever welacken oure conclusionn. 12600 

To moche folk we ben illusioun, 

And borwe gold, be it a pound or tuo, 

Or ten or twelve, or many sommes mo, 

And make hem wenen atte leste weye, 

That of a pound we conne make tweye. 

Yit it is fals ; and ay we han good hope. 

It for to doon, and after it we grope. 

But that science is so fer us biforn, 

We mowen nought, although we had it sworn, 

It overtake, it slyt away so fast ; 12G10 

It wol us make beggers atte last." 

Whil this yeman was thus in his talkyng, 
This chanoun drougli him ner and herd al thing 
Which that this yiman spak, for suspeccioun 
Of mennes speche ever hadde this chanoun ; 
For Catoun saith, that he that gulty is, 
Demeth al thing he spoke of him, i-wis ; 
By cause of that he gan so neigh to drawe 
His yeman, that he herde al his sawe ; 
And thus he sayd unto his yeman tho ; 12620 

" Hold now thi pees, and spek no wordes mo ; 
For if thou do, thou schalt it deere abye. 
Thou sclaundrest me here in this companye. 
And eek disco verest that thou schuldest hide." 
" Ye," quod oure ost, " tel on, what so bytyde ; 
Of alle this thretyng recche the nought a myte." 
" In faith," quod he, ** no more do I but lite." 
And whan this Chanoun seih it wold not be, 
But liis yeman wold telle his privete, 
He fledde away for verray sorwe and schanie. 12630 
** A 1 " quod the yeman, " her schal arise gatne ; 
Al that I can anoon now wol I telle, 
Sin he is goon ; the fpule feend him quelle 1 
For never herafter wol I with him meete 
For peny ne for pound, I wol byheete. 
He that me broughte first unto that game, 
Er that he deye, sorwe have he and schame I 
For it is ernest to me, by my faith ; 
That fele I wel, what so eny man saith ; 
And yet for al my smert, and al my greef, 12640 

For al my sorwe, and labour, and mescheef, 

126\6. Catoun saith. The allusion is to Caio de Morib. lib. i. disticL 17,- 
Ne cures si quis tacito sermono loquatnr ; 
Conscias ipse sibi de so puiat omnia die: . 



B46 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

I couthe never leve it in no wise. 

Nor wolde God my wyt mighte suffise 

To tellen a) that longeth to that art ; 

But natheles, yet wil I telle yow part ; 

Sin that my lord is goon, I wol nought spare, 

Such thing as that I knowe, I wol declare. 

** With this chanoun I duelled have seven yer, 
And of his science am I never the ner ; 
Al that I hadde, I have lost therby, 12650 

And God wot, so hath many mo than I. 
Ther I was wont to be right freisch and gay 
Of clothing, and of other good array, 
Now may I were an hose upon myn heed ; 
And where my colour was bothe freissch and reed, 
Now it is wan, and of a leden he we, 
(Who so it useth, sore schal he rewe) ; 
And of my swynk yet blended is ujyn ye ; 
Lo ! such avauntage it is to multiplie ! 
That slydynge science had me made so bare, ' 12GG0 
That I have no good, wher that ever I fare ; 
And yit I am endetted so therby 
Of gold, that I have borwed trewely, 
That whil I ly ve schal I quite never ; 
Lat every man be war by me for ever. 
What maner man that casteth him therto. 
If he continue, I holde his thrift i-do ; 
So help me God, therby schal he not wynne, 
But empte his purs, and make his wittes thynne. 
And whan he, thurgh his inadnes and folye, 12670 

Hath lost his owne good in jeupardie, 
Than he exciteth other men therto. 
To lesse her good, as he himself hath do. 
For unto schrewes joy it is and ese 
To have here felawes in peyne and desese. 
Thus was I oones lerned of a clerk ; 
Of that no charge ; I wol si>eke of oure werk. 
Whan we ben ther as we schul exercise 
Oure elvyssh craft, we seme wonder wyse, 
Oure termes ben so clergeal and queynte. j2080 

I blowe the fuyr til that myn herte feynte. 
What schulde I telle ech proporcion 
Of thinges which that we werke up and doun, 
As on fyve or six ounces, may wel be, 
Of silver, or som other quantite ? 
And besy me to tell you the names, 
As orpiment, brent bones, yern sq names. 
That into poudre grounden ben ful smal? 



THE FBOLOGE OF TUB CHANOUNS YEMAy. •'^47 

And in an erthen pot how put is^l, 

And salt y-put in, and also paupere, 12690 

Biforn these poudres that I speke of heere, 

And wel i-covered with a lamp of glas ? 

And of moche other thing what that ther was ? 

And of the pot and glas enlutyng, 

That of the aier niighte passe no thing ? 

And of the esy fuyr, and smert also, 

Which that was maad? and of the care and wo, 

That we hadde in oure niatiers sublymynge, 

And in amalgamynge, and calcenynge 

Of quyksilver, y-clept mercury crude ? 12700 

For alle oure sleightes we can nought conclude. 

Oure orpiment, and sublyment mercurie, 

Oure grounde litarge eek on the porfurye 

Of ech of these of ounces a certayn 

Nat helpeth us, oure labour is in vayn. 

Ne eek our spirites ascencioun, 

Ne eek oure matiers that lyn al fix adoun, 

Mo we in oure werkyng us no thing avayle ; 

For lost is al oure labour and travayle. 

And al the cost on twenty devel way 12710 

Is lost also, which we upon it lay. 

Ther is also ful many another thing, 

That is to oure craft appertenyng, 

Though I by ordre hem here reherse ne can, 

Bycause that I am a lewed man. 

Yet wil I telle hem, as they come to mynde, 

Though I ne conne nought sette hem in her kyiide ; 

As bol armoniak, verdegres, boras ; 

And sondry vessels maad of erthe and glas, 

Oure urinals and oure descensories, 12720 

Viols, croslets, and sublimatories, 

Concurbites, and alembikes eeke, 

And othere suche, deere y-nough a leeke, 

Nat needith it to rehersen hem alle ; 

Wat res rubifying, and boler galle, 

Arsnek, sal armoniak, and brimstoon. 

And herbes couthe 1 telle eek many oon. 

As ogrimoigne, valirian, and lunarie, 

And other suche, if that me list to tarie ; 

Oure lampes brennyng bothe night and day, 12730 

126J)4. pot and glas. This is the reading of the Harleian and Lansdowne 
Msa. Tyrwhitt reads pottes and glasses engluting, which seems to improve 
^e metre. 

12702. sublyment. The T.nnsd. Mp., with Tyrwhitt, re&da sublimed. 

12725. rubifying. Ms. Karl, reads rubisyng. 



B48 TEE CANTERBUnY TALES. 

To bringe aboute oure craft if that we may ; 

Cure fourneys ee^ of calcinacioun, 

And of waters albificacioun, 

Unslekked lym, salt, and glayre of an ey, 

Poudres dyvers, aissches, dong, pisse, and cleyj 

Cered poketts, sal petre, vitriole ; 

And dyvers fuyres maad of woode and cole ; 

Salt tartre, alcaly, and salt preparat, 

And combust maticres, and coagulat ; 

Cley maad with hors or mannes her, and oyle 12740 

Of tartre, alym, glas, berm, wort, and argoyle, 

Resalgar, and oure matiers enbibing ; 

And eek of oure matiers encorporing, 

And of oure silver citrinacioun, 

Oure cementynge and fermentacioun, 

Oure yngottes, testes, and many thinges rao. 

I wol you telle as was me taught also 

The foure spiritz, and the bodies seven • 

By ordre, as ofte herd I my lord neven. 

The firste spirit quyksilver called is ; 12750 

The secound orpiment ; the thridde i-wis 

Sal armoniac, and the ferthe bremstoon. 

The bodies seven, eek, lo hem heer anoon. 

Sol gold is, and Luna silver we threpe ; 

Mars yren, Mercurie quyksilver we clepe ; 

Saturnus leed, and Jabitur is tyn. 

And Venus coper, by my fader kyn. 

*' This cursed craft who so wol exercise, 
He schal no good han that may him sufiBse 
For al the good he spendeth theraboute 12700 

He lese schal, thereof have I no doute. 
Who so that hst outen his folye, 
Let him come forth and lerne multiplie ; 
And every man that hath ought in his cofre, 
Let him appiere, and wexe a philosofre, 
Ascauns that craft is so light to lere. 
Nay, nay, Grod wot, al be he monk or frere, 
Prest or chanoun, or eny other wight, 
Though he sit at his book bothe day and night 
In lernyng of this elvysch nice lore, i2770 

Al is in vayn, and parde moche more 
Is to lerne a lewed man this subtilte ; 
Fy, spek not therof, for it wil not be. 
Al couthe he letterure, or couthe he noon, 

12732. /ottmeys. The Ms. Harl. appears to read/ourrofs , but Ms. Laubci 
roads /omej/s, which is adopted by Tyrwhitt, and seems to be correct. 
12734. salt. Tiie l.,auad. Me., with Tyrwbitt, reads chalk. 



TUB PBOLOGE OF THE C^A^^OUNS YEMAN. 349 



As in effect, he schal fyiid it al ood ', 

For bothe tuo by my salvacioun 

Concluden in multiplioacioun 

I-liche wel, whan thay ban al y-do ; 

This is to sayn, thay fayle bothe tuo 

Yet forgat I to make rehersayle 12780 

Of watres corosif, and of lymayle, 

And of bodyes moUificacioun, 

And also of here enduracioun, 

Oyles ablucioun, and metal fusible, 

To tellen al, wold passen eny bible 

That o wher is ; wherfora, as for the best, 

Of alle these names now wil I me rest ; 

For, as I trowe, 1 have yow told y-nowe 

To reyse a feend, al loke he never so rowe. 

A, nay, let be ; the philosophre stoon, 12790 

Elixir clept, we sechen fast echoon, 

For had we him, than were we syker y-nough ; 

But unto God of heven 1 make avow, 

For al oure craft, whan we han al y-do, 

And al oure sleight, he wol not come us to. 

lie hath i-made us spende moche good, 

i<'or sorwe of which almost we wexen wood, 

Hut that good hope crepeth in oure herte, 

(Supposing ever, though we sore smerte. 

To ben relieved by him alfer-ward. 12800 

Such supi^osing and hope is scharp and hard. 

1 warne you wel it is to seken ever. 

That future temps hath made men dissevere, 

In trust therof, from al that ever they hadde. 

Yet of that art thay conne nought wexe sadde. 

For unto hem it is a bitter swete ; 

So semeth it ; for nad they but a scheete 

Which thay mighte wrappe hem in a-night, 

And a bak to walke inne by day-light, 1280iJ 

They wolde hem selle, and spenden on this craft ; 

Thay can nought stinte, til no thing be laft. 

And evermore, wher that ever they goon, 

Men may hem knowe by smel of bremstoon ; 

For al the v/orld thay stynken as a goot ; 

Her savour is so rammyssch and so hoot. 

That though a man fro hem a myle be. 

The savour wol infecte him, trusteth me. 

Lo, thus by smelly ng and by thred-bare array, 

If that men list, this folk they knowe may. 

12809. bak. Tliia is tlio reading of the llarl. and LaiiBd. Alrts. Tyrwhltt 
roiuit! bratt, which he interprets a coarse mantle. 



350 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And if a man wol aske hem prively, J 2820 

Why thay ben clothed so unthriftily, 

Right anoon thay wol rounen in his eere, 

And say, if that thay espied were, 

Men wold hem slee, bycause of here science ; 

liO, thus this folk bytrayen innocence. 

Passe over this, I go my tale unto. 

Er than the pet be on the fuyr y-do 

Of metals with a certeyn quantite. 

My lord hem tempreth, and no man but he ; 

(Now he is goon, I dar say boldely) 12830 

For as men sayn, he can doon craftily ; 

Algate I wot wel he hath such a name. 

And yet ful ofte he renneth in blame ; 

" And wite ye how ? ful ofte it happeth so, 
The pot to-breketh, and farwel all is goo. 
These metals been of so gret violence, 
Cure walles may not make hem resistence, 
But if thay were wrought of lym and stoon ; 
Thay percen so, that thurgh the wall thay goon ; 
And some of hem synken into the grounde, 13840 

(Thus have we lost by tymes many a pounde), 
And some are skatered al the floor aboute ; 
Some lepe into the roof, withouten doute. 
Though that the feend nought in oure sight him 

schewe, 
I trowe that he with us be, that schrewe ; 
In helle, wher that he is lord and sire, 
Nis ther no more woo, ne anger, ne ire. 
Whan that oure pot is broke, as I have sayd, 
Every man chyt, and halt him evel apayde, 
Som sayd it was long on the f uyr-makyng . 12850 

Lome sayde nay, it was on the blowyng ; 
(Than -vvas 1 ferd, for that was myn office). 
' Straw I ' quod the thridde, ' ye been lewed and nyce, 
It was nought tempred as it oughte be.' 
' Nay,' quod the fertile, * stynt and herkne me ; 
Bycause oure fuyr was nought y-maad of beech, 
That is the cause, and other noon, so theech.' 
1 can not telle wliereon it was long, 
But wel I woot gret stryf is us among. 12659 

* What ? ' quod my lord, ' ther is no more to doone. 
Of these periles 1 wol be war eftsoone. 
I am right siker, that the pot was erased. 
Be as be may, be ye no thing amased. 
As usage is, let swoope the lloor as swithe ; 
Piuk up your liei tes aiid belli glcid and blithe.' 



THE PROLOGE OF THE CUANOUNS YEMAN. Si>l 



Tlie mullok on an heep i-swoped was 

And on the floor y-cast a canevas, 

And al this niulloc in a syve i-throwe, 

And sifted, and y-plukked many a throwe. 

' Parde,' quod oon, * somwhat of oure metal 12S70 

Yet is ther lieer, though that we have nought al. 

And though this thing myshapped hath as now, 

Another tyme it may be wel y-now. 

Us moste putte oure good in adventure. 

A marchaunt, parde, may not ay endure, 

Trusteth me wel, in his prosperite ; 

Som tyme his good is drowned in the see, 

And som tyme cometli it sauf unto the londe,' 

' Pees I ' quod my lord, ' the nexte tyme I wol fonde 

To bringe oure craft al in another plyte, 12880 

And but I do, sires, let me have the wyte ; 

Ther was defaute in som what, wel I woot.' 

Another sayde, the fuyr was over hoot. 

But be it hoot or cold, I dar say this, 

That we concluden evermor amys ; 

We faile of that which that we wolden have, 

And in oure madness evermore we rave, 

And whan we ben togideres everichon, 

Everiche man semeth a Salamon. 

But al thing which that schineth as the gold, 12890 

Is nought gold, as that I have herd told ; 

Ne every appel that is fair at ye, 

Ne is not good, what so men clappe or crye. 

Right so, lo, fareth it amonges us. 

He that semeth the wisest, by Jesus ! 

Is most fool, whan it cometh to the preef ; 

And he that semeth trewest is a theef. 

That schul ye knowe, er that I fro yow wende. 

By that 1 of my tale have maad an ende. 

" Ther is a chanoun of religioun 12900 

Aoionges us, wold iniecte al a toun, 
Thougli it as gret were as Ninive, 
Rome, Alisaundre, Troye, or other thre. 
His sleight and his inlinite falsnesse 
Ther couthe no man writen as 1 gesse, 
Though that he uiighte lyven a thousand yeer ; 
Of al this world of I'alsheed nys his peer, 
For in his ternies he wol him so wynde, 

12890. as the gold. Tliie proverb is taken directly from the Parabola of 
Alauua do liiflulis, wlio expresses it tbue iu two Leoiiiiies, — 

Noil teneas auriim totuin quod splendet nt aurura, 
Nee pulcluum pomum quodlibct esse buuu.u. 



352 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And speke his wordes in so sleygh a kynde, 

Whan he comune schal with eny wight, 12910 

That he wil make him dote anoon right, 

But it a feend be, as him selven is. 

Ful many a man hath he bygiled er this. 

And wol, if that he lyve may a while ; 

And yet men ryde and goon ful many a myle 

Him for to seeke, and have his acqueintaunce, 

Nought knowyng of his false governaunce. 

And if yow list to geve me audience, 

I wol it telle here in youro presence 

But, worschipful chanouns religious, 12920 

Ne demeth not that I sclaundre youre hous, 

Although my tale of a chanoun be. 

Of every ordre som schrewe is, pardee ; 

And God forbede that al a companye 

Schulde re we a singuler mannes folye. 

To sclaunder yow is no thing myn entent, 

But to correcten that is mys i-ment. 

This tale was not oonly told for yow. 

But eek for other moo ; ye woot wel how 

That among Cristes apostles twelve 12930 

Ther was no traytour but Judas him selve ; 

Than why schulde the remenaunt have a blame, 

That gulteles were ? by yow I say the same. 

Save oonly this, if ye wol herkene me. 

If any Judas in your covent be, 

Kemewe him by tyme, I yow rede. 

If schame or los may causen eny drede. 

And beth no thing displesed, I you pray, 

But in this caas herkeneth what I say." 

THE CHANOUNES YEMAJfNES TALE 

In London was a prest, an annueler, 1^^940 

That therin dwelled hadde many a yer, 

The Chanounes Yemannes Tale. In a preceding tale, Chaucer has touched 
upon the astrologers and practisers of '* inagike nalurel ; " this, and perhaps 
some temporary occurrences, led him now to satirize bitterly another class 
who infested society at this period, the alchemists. The Chanounes Ye- 
mannes tale may describe an occurrence in Chaucer's time, for the " multi- 
pliers " seem to have been very busy deceiving people at the end of the four- 
teenth and beginning of the hfteenth centuries ; and Tyrwhitt has pointed 
out as a curious coincidence, that an act was passed soon after the poet's 
death, 5 H. IV. c. iv., making it felony •' to multiplie gold or silver, or to use 
the art of multiplication." 

12940. an annueler. "They were called annuelleres, riot from their re- 
ceiving a yearly stipend, as the gloss, explains it. but from their being 
employed solely in singing annuals, or annirersary masses for ilie dead, with- 
out auy cure of 80uls. See the stal. JO Edw. ill. c. viii., whei e the chapelleins 



THE CllANOUNES YEMAJ^NES TALE. 853 



Which was so plesaunt and so servisable 
Unto the "\vyf, wher as he was at table, 
That sche wolde suffre him no thing for to pay 
For bord ne clothing, went he never so gay ; 
And spending silver had he right y-nough ; 
Therof no force ; I wol procede as now. 
And telle forth my tale of the chanoun, 
That brouglit this prest to confusioun. 

This false chanoun cam upon a day 12950 

Unto the prestes chambre, wher he lay, 
Biseching him to lene him a certeyn 
Of gold, and he wold quyt it him ageyn. 
" Lene me a mark," quod he, " but dayes thre, 
And at my day I wil it quyte the. 
And if so be, that thou fynde me fals. 
Another day hong me up by the hals." 
This prest him took a mark, and that as swithe. 
And this chanoun him thankid ofte sithe, 
And took his leve, and wente forth his wey ; 12960 

And atte thridde day brought his money. 
And to the prest he took his gold agayn, 
Wherof this prest was wonder glad and fayn. 
" Gertes," quod he, " no thing annoyeth me 
To lene a man a noble, or tuo, or thre. 
Or what thing were in my possessioun. 
Whan he so trewe is of condicioun. 
That in no w^ise he breke wol his day ; 
To such a man I can never say nay." 1290'J 

" What ? " quod this chanoun, " schold I be untrewo ? 
Nay, that were thing i-fallen of the newe. 
Trouthe is a thing that I wol ever kepe, 
Unto that day in which that I schal crejje 
Into my grave, and elles God forbede ! 
Bilieve'th that as siker as your crede. 
God thank I, and in good tyme be it sayd, 
That ther Avas never man yet evel apayd 
For gold ne silver that he to me lent, 
Ke never falshed in myn hert I ment. 
And, sire," quod he, " now of my private, 12980 

Syn ye so goodlich have be unto me, 
And kythed to me so gret gentilesce, 
Som what, to quyte with youre kyndenesse, 

parochiels are distinguished from others chantanz anuales, et d, cure des almes 
nient entendantz. They were both to receive yearly stipends, but the former 
was allowed to take six marks, and ihe latter only tive. (.Compare stat, ^ H. 
v., St. 2, c. ii., where the stipend of tliechapellei7i parochij is raised to ight 
marks, and that of the chtipellein annueler (he is so named in the . tatute) to 
&c\cu-"—TyrwhUt. 

23 



354 



THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



I will yow schewe, and if yow lust to lere 

I will yow teche pleynly the rnanere, 

How I kan werken in pliilosophie. 

Takith good heed, ye schul seen wel at ye, 

That I wol doon a maystry er I go." 

" Ye ? " quod the prest, " ye, sire, and wol ye so ? 

Mary I therof I pray yow hertily." 12900 

"At youre comaundenient, sire, trewely," 

Quod the chanoun, *' and elles God forbede . 

Lo, how this theef couthe his servise beede. 

Ful soth it is that such profred servise 

Stynketh, as witnessen these olde wise ; 

And that ful soone I wyl it verefye 

In this chanoun, roote of al treccherie. 

That evermor delit hath and gladnesse 

(Such feendly thoughtes in his hert empresse) 

How Cristes poeple he may to meschief bringe. 13000 

God kepe us from his fals dissimilynge. 

What wiste this prest with whom that he delte ? 

Ne of his harm comyng he no thing felte. 

O seely prest, o sely innocent. 

With coveytise anoon thou schalt be blent ; 

O graceles, ful blynd is thy conceyt. 

No thing art thou war of the deceyt. 

Which that this fox i-schapen hath to the ; 

His wily wrenches y-wis thou maist not fle. 

Wherfor to go to the conclusioun, 13010 

That referreth to thy confusioun. 

Unhappy man, anoon 1 will me hie 

To tellen thin unwitte and thy folye, 

And eek the falsenesse of that other wrecche, 

Als ferforth as my connyng wol strecche. 

This chanoun was my lord, ye wolde weene ', 
Sire ost, in faith, and by the heven queene, . 

It was another chanoun, and not he. 
That can an hundred fold more subtiite. 
He hath bitrayed folkes many tyme ; 13020 

Of his falsnes it dullith me to ryme. 
Ever whan I speke of his falshede, 
For schame of him my cheekes wexen reede ; 
Algates thay bygynne for to glowe, 
For reednes have I noon, right wel I knowe, 
In my visage, for fumes diverse 
Of metals, which ye han me herd reherse, 
Consumed and wasted han my reednesse. 
Now tak heed of this chanouns cursed nesse. 13029 

** 9ire," quod he to the prest, " let your man goon 



THE CHANOUNES TEMANNES TALE. 



355 



For quyksilver, that we it hadde anoon ; 

And let him bringe ounces tuo or thre ; 

And whan he conieth, as faste schul ye see 

A wonder thing, which ye saugh never er this.'* 

" Sire," quod the prest, " it schal be doon, i-wis." 

lie bad his servaunt fecche him his thinges, 

And he al redy was at his biddynges, 

And went him forth, and com anoon agayn 

With this quyksilver, schortly for to siiyn. 

And took these ounces thre to the chanoun ; 13040 

And he it layde faire and wel adoun. 

And bad the servaunt coles for to bringe, 

That he anoon might go to his werkynge. 

The coles right anoon weren i-fett, 

And this chanoun took out a croselett 

Of his bosom, and schewed it the prest. 

*' This instrument," quod he, ** which that thou sest, 

Tak in thin hond, and put thiself therinne 

Of this quiksilver an unce, and her bygynne 

In the name of Crist to wax a philosophre. 13050 

Ther ben ful fewe, whiche that I wolde profre 

To schewe hem thus moche of my science j 

For ye schul seen heer by experience, 

That this quiksilver I wol mortifye. 

Right in youre sight anoon, withouten lye, 

And make it as good silver and as fyu 

As ther is any in youre purs or myn, 

Or elles wher ; and make it malleable ; 

And elles holdeth me fals and unable 

Amonges folk for ever to appeere. 13060 

1 have a pouder heer that cost me deere, 

Schal make al good, for it is cause of al 

My connyng, which that I you schewe schal. 

Voydith youre man, and let him be theroute j 

And schet the dore, whils we ben aboute 

Our privetee, that no man us aspie. 

Whiles we werken in this philosophie." 

Al, as he bad, fulfilled was in dede. 

This ilke servaunt anoon right out yede, 

And his maister schitte the dtn-e anoon, 13070 

And to here labour speedily thai goon. 

This prest, at this cursed chanouns biddyng, 
Upon the fuyr anoon sette this thing, 
And blew the fuyr, and busied him ful fast. 
And this chanoun into the cruslet cast 

13062. good. I have ventured to retnin Tyi wliitt's r.;adiiib', which is eup- 
portfed by tho Lantdowne Ms. The Harl. Ms. rosi\Xsi gold. 



356 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



A pouder, noot I wherof that it was 

I-niaad, outher of chalk, outher of glas, 

Or soiii what elles, was nought worth a flye, 

To blynde with this prest ; and bad him hye 

These coles for to couchen al above 13080 

The croislet ; for " in tokenyng I the love," 

Quod this chanoun, " thin oughne handes tuo 

Schal wirche al thing w^hich that schal be do." 

" Graunt mercy," quod the prest, and was ful glad, 

And couchede coles as the chanoun bad, 

And whil he besy was, this feendly wrecche, 

This false chanoun (the foule feend him fecche !) 

Out of his bosom took a bechen cole, 
In which ful subtilly was maad an hole, 

And therein put was of silver lymayle 13090 

An unce, and stopped was withoute fayle 

The hole with M-ex, to kepe the lymail in. 

And understondith, that this false gyn 

Was not maad ther, but it was maad bifore ; 

And other thinges I schal telle more 

Herafter-ward, which that he with him brouglit. 

Er he com there, to bigyle him he thought, 

And so he dede, er thay wente atwynne ; 

Til he had torned him, coutlie he nought blynne. 

It dulleth me, whan that I of him speke ; 18100 

On his falshede fayn wold I me wreke, 

If 1 wist how, but he is heer and there, 

He is so variant, he byt no where. 
But taketh heed now, sires, for Goddes love. 

He took his cole of which I spak above. 

And in his hond he bar it prively, 

And whiles the preste couched bysily 

The coles, as I tolde yow er this. 

This chanoun sayde, " Freend, ye doon amys ; 

This is not couched as it oughte be, 13110 

But soone I schal amenden it," quod he. 

" Now let me melle therwith but a while, 

For of yow have I pitee, by seint Gile 1 

Ye been right hoot, I se wel how ye swete ; 

Have heer a cloth and wype away the wete." 

And whiles that this prest him wyped haas. 

This chanoun took his cole, I schrew^e his faas I 

And layd it aboven on the myd-ward 

Of the croslet, and blew w^el afterward, 

Til that the coles gonne faste brenne. 13130 

'* ISow geve us drinke," quod the chanoun thenne, 

" Alb s withe ai schal be wel, I undertake, 



THE CUANOUNE^ YE MAN NFS TALE. 357 



Sitte we doiin, and let us mery make." 

And whan that the chanouns becb.eue cole 

Was brent, al the lyniail out of the hole 

Into the crosselet anoon fel adoun ; 

And so it moste needes by resoun, 

Sins it so even above couched was ; 

But therof wist the prest no thing, alias ! 

He denied alle the colis i-liche goode, 13180 

For of the sleight he no thing understood. 

And whan this alcaniister saugh his tyme, 
*' Rys up, sire prest," quod he, " and stonde by nio ; 
And for I wot wel ingot have ye noon, 
Goth, walkith forth, and brynge a chalk-stoon ; 
For I wol make it of the same schap, 
That is an ingold, if I may have hap. 
And brynge with you a bolle or a panne 
Ful of water, and ye schul wel se thanne 
How that oure besynes schal happe and i>reve 13140 
And yit, for ye schul have no mysbileeve 
Ne wrong conceyt of me in youre absence, 
I ne wol nought ben out of youre presence. 
But go with you, and come with you agayn." 
The chambur dore, schortly for to sayn, 
Thay opened and sehette, and went here vveye, 
And forth with hen they caryed the keye, 
And comen agayn withouten eny delay. 
What schuld I tary al the longe day ? 
He took the chalk, and schop it in the wise 13150 

Of an ingot, as I schal yow devyse ; 
I say, he took out of his oughne sleeve 
A teyne of silver (evel mot he cheeve !) 
Which that was but an unce of wight. 
And taketh heed now of his cursed slight ; 
He schop his ingot in lengthe and in brede 
Of this teyne, withouten eny drede. 
So sleighly, that the prest it nought aspyde ; 
And in his sleeve agayn he gan it hyde ; 
And fro the fuyr he took up his mateere, 13160 

And into the ingot put it with mery cheere ; 
And into the watir-vessel he it cast, 

13124. This line, as it stands in the Harl. Ms., 

And whan the chanouns bechene cole, 
appears to be imperfect, although it is supported by the Lansdowne Ms- I 
have ventured to add the word that from Tyrwhitt, and to insert ihe e in 
cfianonnes, wliich had probably slipped out by" the inadvertence of a scribe. 

13146. wente here wei/e. The Harl. and La'nsd. Mss. read ivente forth here 
weye, which makes a redundancy in the nioasure ; the superfluous word ap- 
pears to have been brought in here from the boginuiug of the next line. 



358 



THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Whan that him list, and bad this prest as fast, 

** Loke what ther is ; put in thin hond and grope ; 

Thou fynde ther schalt silver, as I hope." 

What devel of helle schold it elles be ? 

Schavyng of silver, silver is, parde ! 

He putte in his hond and tok up a teyne 

Of silver fyn, and glad in every veyne 

Was this prest, whan he saugh it was so. 1317G 

" Goddes blessyng, and his modres also, 

And alle halwes, have ye, sire chanoun ! " 

Seyde this prest, and I her malisoun ; 

" i3ut, and ye vouchesauf to teche me 

This nobil craft and tliis subtilite, 

I will be youre in al that ever I may." 

Quod this chanoun, ** Yet wol I make assay 

The secound tyme, that ye mow taken lieede, 

And ben expert of this, and in your neede 

Another day assay in myn absence 13180 

This dicipline, and this crafty science. 

Let take another unce," quod he tho, 

" Of quyksilver, withouten wordes mo, 

And do therwith as ye have doon er this 

With that other, which that now silver is.'* 

The prest him busyeth in al that he can 

To doon as this chanoun, this.' cursed man, 

Comaunded him, and faste blew the fuyr. 

For to come to thellect of his desyr. 

And this chanoun right in the mene while 13190 

Al redy was this prest eft to bygile. 

And for a countenaunce in his hond bar 

An holow stikke (tak keep and be war). 

In thende of which an unce and no more 

Of silver lymail put was, as bifore 

Was in his cole, and stopped with wex wel 

For to kepe in his limail every del. 

And whil the prest was in his besynesse. 

This chanoun with his stikke gan liini dresse 

To him anoon, and his pouder cast in, 13200 

As he dede er, (the devel out of his skyn 

Him torne, I pray to God, for his falshede \ 

For he was ever fals in worde and deede). 

And with this stikke above the crosiet, 

13180. assay The Harl. Ms. substitutes your self, whicli makee an unintel- 
ligible sentt^nce, without a verb. The Lunsd. Ms. omits the word, and makes 
the line imperfect in measure as well as grammatical construction. 

13203. worde. This, which is the reading of the Lansd. Ms., is perhaps 
better than that of the Ilarl. Ms., oth. Tyrwhitt has thought. 

13204. above. So Tyrwhitt and the Lansd. Ms., apparently the correct read- 
ing. The U.arl. l\'s. reads alonu. 



THE CnANOTNES YEMANNES TALE. '-^-^J 



That was ordeyned with that false get, 

He styred the coles, til relente gan 

The wex agayii the fuyr, as every nian, 

But it a fool be, woot wel it moot iiede 

And al that in the hole was out yede, 

And into the croslet hastily it fel. 13210 

Now, good sires, what wol ye bet than wel ? 

When that this prest thus was begiled agayii, 

Supposyng not but trouthe, soth to sayn, 

He was so glad, that I can nought expresse 

In no nianer his mjTthe and his gladnesse, 

And to the chanoun he profred eft soone 

Body and good. "Ye," quod the chanoun, "soone, | 

Though pore I be, crafty thou schalt nie fynde ; ^ 

I warne the, yet is ther more byhynde. | 

Is ther any coper her withinne ? " quod he. 18220 | 

" Ye, sir," quod this prest, " I trowe ther be. f 

Elles go bye som, and that as swithe.'' | 

*• Now good sire, go forth thy way and hy the." | 

He went his way, and with this coper cam ; | 

And this chanoun it in his hondes nam. 

And of that cojjer weyed out but an ounce. 

Al to simple is my tonge to pronounce, 

As minister of my witt, the doublenesse 

Of this chanoun, roote of al cursednesse. 13220 

He semed frendly to hem that knew him nought, 

But he was fendly bothe in werk and thought. 

It werieth me to telle of his falsnesse ; 

And natheles yit wol I it expresse, 

To that entent men may be war therby, 

And for noon other cause trewely. 

He put this unce of coper in the croslet. 
And on the fuyr als swithe he hath it set, 
And cast in pouder, and made the i)rest to blowe, 
And in his worching for to stoupe lowe, 
As he dede er, and al nas but a jape ; 13240 

Right as him list the prest he made liis ape. 
And afterward in the ingot he it cast, 
And in the panne putte it atte last 
Of water, and in he put his owne bond. 
And in his sleeve, as ye byforn-hond 
Herde me telle, he had a silver teyne ; 
He sleyghly took it out, this cursed heyne, 
(Unwitynge this prest of his false craft), 

13228, as minister of my witt. I retain this reading from Tyrwhitt, as ap- 
parently furnishing the best meaning. Ma. Harl. reads the minister and oj 
his Witt llie reading of the Lansd. Ms. is, /us moJistre and his wUk. 



3C0 THE CANTEnnUHY TALES. 



And in the pannes botiiie he hath it laft ; 

And in the water rumbleth to and frOe 13250 

And wonder prively took up also 

The coper teyne, (nought knowyng this prest) 

And hidde it, and hent him by the breat, 

And to him spak, and thus sayde in his game ; 

" Stoupeth adoun ! by God, ye ben to blame ; 

Helpeth me now, as I dede yow whil er ; 

Put in your bond, and loke what is ther." 

This prest took up this silver teyne anoon. 

And thanne sayde the chanoun, let us goon 13259 

With these thre teynes whiche that we ban wrought, 

To som goldsmyth, and wite if it be ought. 

For by my faith I nolde, for myn hood, 

But if they were silver fyn and good. 

And that as swithe proved schal it be." 

Unto the goldsmith with these teynes thre 

Thay went, and putte these teynes in assay 

To f uyr and hammer ; might no man say nay, 

But that thay were as hem oughte be. 

This sotted prest, who was gladder than he? 
Was never brid gladder agayn the day ; 13270 

Ne nightyngale in the sesoun of May 
Was never noon, that liste better to synge ; 
Ne lady lustier in carolynge ; 
Or for to speke of love and wommanhede, 
Ne knyght in armes doon an hardy deede 
To stonde in grace of his lady deere. 
Than hadde this prest this craft for to lere ; 
And to the chanoun thus he spak and seydo ; 
" For the love of God, that for us alle deyde, 
And as I may deserve it unto yow, 13280 

What schal this receyt coste ? telleth now." 
** By oure lady," quod the chanoun, " it is deere, 
I warne yow wel, for, save I and a freere, 
In Engelond ther can no man it make." 
*' No fors," quoth he ; *' now, sire, for Goddes sake, 
What schal I paye ? telleth me, I pray." 
*' I wis," quod he, " it is ful dere I say. 
Sire, at a word, if that ye lust it have. 
Ye schul pay fourty pound, so God me save ; 
And nere the frendschipe that ye dede er this 132D0 
To me, ye schulde paye more i-wys." 
This prest the somme of fourty i^ound anoon 
Of nobles fette, and tooke hem everychoon 

13283. for save. The Harl. Us. reads/or, sire, which is evideutly aa error ; 
the Lauad. Mb. has but, saot, aiid Tyrwhitt. that save. 



THE CnANO UNES YEMANNES TALE. 861 



To this chanoun, for this ilk receyt. 

Al his werkyng nas but fraude and decejt. 

" Sire prest," he seyde, " I kepe have no loos 
Of my craft, for I wold it kept were cloos ; 
And as ye loveth me, kepeth it secre. 
For and men knewe al my sotilte, 

By God, men wolden have so gret envye 13300 

To me, i3ycause of my philosophie, 
I sehulde be deed, ther were noon other weye." 
" God it forbede," quoth the prest, " what seye. 
Yet had I lever spenden al the good 
Which that I have, (and elles wax I wood) 
Than that ye sehulde falle in suche nieschief." 
*' For your good wil, sir, have ye right good preef," 
Quoth the chanoun, " and far wel, graunt mercy.'''' 
He went his way, and never the prest him sey 
After this day ; and whan that this prest scholde 
Maken assay, at such tyine as he wolde, 13311 

Of this receyt, far wel, it wold not be. 
Lo, thus byjaped and bygilt was he ; 
Thus maketh he his introduccioun 
To bringe folk to here destruccioun. 

Considereth, sires, how that in ech astaat 
Bitwixe men and gold ther is debaat. 
So ferforth that unnethe ther is noon. 
This multiplying blent so many oon, 
That in good faith I trowe that it be 13320 

The cause grettest of which scarsete. 
Philosophres speken so mistyly 
In this craft, that men conne not come therby, 
For any witt that men han now on dayes. 
They may wel chiteren, as doon these jayes, 
And in here termes sette lust and peyne, 
But to her purpos schul thay never atteyne. 
A man may lightly lerne, if he have ought, 
To multiplie and bringe his good to nought. 
Lo, such a lucre is in this lusty game ; 13330 

A mannes mirthe it wol torne into grame, 
And enipte also grete and hevy purses, 
And make folk for to purchace curses 
Of hem, that han her good therto i-lent. 
O, fy I for schame, thay that have be brent, 
Alias ! can thay not lie the f uyres hete ? 
Ye that it usen, I rede ye it lete. 
Lest ye lesen al ; for bet than never is late ; 
Never to thrive, were to long a date. 
Though ye proile ay, ye tichul it, never i^ji^^y^ \ 1U340 



i5()2 The cANTEnnuRY tales. 



Ye ben as bolde as is Bayard the blyndoj 

That blundreth forth, and peril casteth noon ; 

He is as bold to renne agayn a stoon, 

As for to go bysides in the wcy ; 

So fare ye that multiplie, I sey. 

If that yoiire yghen can nought seen aright, 

Loke that youre mynde lakke nought his sight. 

^]or though ye loke never so brode and stare, 

Ye schul nought wynne a mite on that chaffare, 

But wasten al, that thay may rape and renne. 18350 

Withdrawe the fuyr, lest it to faste brenne ; 

Medleth no more with that art, I mene ; 

For gif ye doon, youre thrift is goon ful clene. 

And right as swithe I wol yow telle heere 

What philosophres sein in this mateere. 

Lo, thus saith Arnold of tlie Newe-toun, 
As his Rosarie maketh mencioun, 
He saith right thus, withouten eny lye : 
Ther may no man Mercury mortifye, 
But it be with his brother knowleching. 133C0 

Lo, how that he, which that first sayd this thing, 
Of philosophres fader was, Hermes ; 
He saith, how that the dragoun douteles 
He dyeth nought, but if that he be slayn 
With his brother. And that is for to sayn, 
By the dragoun. Mercury, and noon other 
He understood, and brimstoon be his brother. 
That out of Sol and Luna were i-drawe. 
" And therfore," sayde he, " take heed to my sawe ; 
Let no man besy him this art to seche, 13370 

But if that he thentencioun and speche 

13341. Bayard the blynde. This appears to have been a verj' popular old 

f>roverb. A number of references illustrative of it will be foun«l in Air. Hal- 
iwell's Dictionary of Archaic and provincial Words ; the following passage 
from Grower's Conftss. Amantis is nearly parallel to Chaucer :— 

Ther is no God, ther is no lawe 
Of whom that he taketh eny hede, 
But as Bayarde the blynde stedo, 
Tille he fulle in the diche auiidde, 
He goth ther no man wol him bidde. 

13350. thay. The Lansd. Ms. and Tyrwhitt read //''• 

13356. Arnold. Arnald de Villeneuve (in Lat."de Villa isoviu or S'lJia- 
iiovanus), a distinguished French physician and alchemist of the fourteenth 
century, whose liosarius Philosophornm was a text-book for the alchemists 
of the following age. 

13361. Lo. Tliis word, which seems necessary to the sense, is not found 
either in Ms. Harl. or in Ms. Lansd. 

13362. Hermes. The treatise of the philosopher's stone, ascribed to Hermes 
Trismegistus, \sas popular in the middle ages ; i(s auihor beiug supposed to 
have been the founder of the Henuelic philosophy. 



THE CHANOUNES YEMANNES TALE. 363 



Of pliilosophres understonde can ; 
And if he do, he is a lewed man. 
For this sciens, and this connyng," quod he, 
"Is of the Secre of secretz, parde." 
Also ther was a disciple of Plato, 
Tiiat on a tyme sayde his maister to, 
As his book Senior wil bere witnesse. 
And this was his deniaunde in sothfastnesss : 
'• Tel me the name of thilke prive stoon." 13380 

And Plato answered unto him anoon, 
" Take the stoon that titanos men name." 
" Which is that ? " quod he. '* Magnasia is the same," 
Sayde Plato. "Ye, sire, and is it thus ? 
This is ignotum per ignotms. 
What is magnasia, good sir, I you pray? " 
" It is a water that is maad, I say, 
Of elementes foure," quod Plato. 
"Telle me the rote, good sire," quod he tho, 
" Of that water, if it be your wille." ■£390 

" Nay, nay," quod Plato, " certeyn that I nylle. 
The pliilosophres sworn were everichoon, 
That thay ne scholde discovere it unto noon, 
Ne in no book it wi'ite in no manere ; 
For unto Crist it is so leef and deere. 
That he wil not that it discovered be, 
But wher it liketh to his deite. 
Man to enspire, and eek for to defende 
Whom that* him liketh ; lo, this is the ende." 

Than thus conclude I, syn that God of hevene 
Ne wol not that the philosophres nevene, 13401 

How that a man schal come unto this stoon, 

13375. the Secri of secretz. " He alludes to a treatiso, entitled Secrela Seci-e- 
torum. wliich was siipposed to contain the sum of Aristotle's instructions to 
Alexander. See Fabric. Bibl. (Jr. v. ii. p. IG7. It was very popular in the 
middle ages, ^gidius de Colunma, a famous divine and bishop, about the 
latter end of the thirteenth century, built upon it his booli De reijimine jirin- 
cipnm, of which our Occleve made a free translation in English verse, and 
addres.sed it to lienry V. while Prince of Wales. A part of Lydgate's trans- 
lation of the Secreta Secreto-nim is printed in Ashmole's Thtat. ('hem. lirit. 
p. 397. He did not translate more than about half of it, being prevented by 
death. See Ms. Harl. 2251, and Tanner, Bib. Brit, in v. Lykc^te. Tho 
greatest part of the sev.snth book of (lower's Conf. Amaiit. is t.ik-Mi from thiu 
supposed viork of Aristotle." — Tyrwhitt. 

13378. his book Senior. The Harl. and Lausd. Mss. read Somer. TjTwhitt 
observes on tlus passage, " The book alluded to is printed in tho Thenfrum 
Chtmicum, vol. v. p. 219, under this title: ' Senioris Zadith til, Haniuelis 
tabula chymica.' The story whi(>h follows of I'lato and his disciple, is there 
told (p. 249)^ with some variations, of Salomon. ' Dixit .Salomon rex, Kecipc 
lapidem qui dlcilur Thit<irios. — l)[\[\. sapiens, Assigna niihi ilium. Dixit, 
est corpus Tnayri^.s-iVc— Dixit, (^uid est magnesia? Kespondit, Magnesia est 
aqua, composita, &c.' " 

13389. rote. The Hturl. Md. reads rooche. 



364 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



I rede as for tlie beste, let it goon. 
For who so maketh God his adversarie, 
As for to werke eny thing in contrarie 
Unto his wil, certes never schal he thrive, 
Though that he niultiphe ternie of al his lyve. 
And ther a poynt ; for ended is my tale. 
God send every trevve man boote of his ba e I 

THE DOCTOURES PROLOGE. 

["Ye, let that passen," quod oure hoste, '* as now. 
Sire Doctour of Physike, I praye you, 
Tel us a tale of som honest matere." 13412 

" It schal be don, if that ye wol it here," 
Said this doctour, and his tale began anon. 
" Now, good men," quod he, *' herkenetheverichon."] 

the tale op the doctor op phisik. 

Ther was, as telleth Titus Lyvius, 
A knight, that cleped was Virginius, 
Fuifild of honours and of worthines. 
And strong of frendes, and of gret riches. 

The Doctourct Prologe. Ms. Harl., with others of the best Mss., has no 
prologus to the tale of the Doctor of Physick. In two mss. quoted by Tyr- 
wiii't there is a mere colophon to the effect, Here endeth the Frankeleym 
Tale, and biginneth the Phisiciens Tale without a pro! age. Other mss. have 
different prologues ; that printed above is given by Ty'rwhitt from one m.s.. 
but it is not much in Chaucer's style ; the following, which is given in the 
Lausd. Ms., is still less so :— 

" Now trewly," quod oure oste, " this a prati tale ; 
For litel merveilo it is that thou lokest so pale, 
Setlien thou hastmedeled with so mony thinges ; 
With bloweinge att the cole to melte bothe biochez and ringes, 
And other many jewels dar I undertake, 
And that thi lorde couthe ua t«l if we mii^ht him overtake. 
Bot lat him go a devel waye, the compaigny is never the were ; 
And al such false harlotes I sette not be hem a kers ; 
Bot latt pas overe nowe al thes subtilitees. 
And sume worthi man tel ns summe veritees, 
Afe ye, worscliipful maistor of phisike, 
Tellith us somine tale that is a cronyke, 
That we may of yowe leren sum witte." 
Quod the maiste'r of phisik, " A tale that I finde writte 
In cronyke passed of olde tyme. 
Herkeneth, for 1 wil tel it yow in rime." 

The Tale of the Doctor of Phisik. It is hardly necessary to state that this 
tale is the commoi. story of Virginius and his daughter, related, as hero 
stated, by Livy, but a little modified in its details to suit medieval notions. 
Chaucer seems to have followed chiefly the version of the story given in liis 
favorite book thu Roman de la Rose (-vol. ii. p. 74 et seqq- ed. Meou.), and 
perhaps he had also in his eye Gower, who gives the story of Virginias in the 
OevtiuUi book of lus Coii/easio Anumtis. 



JL 



THE TALE OF THE DOCTOR OF PHISIK. 



865 



This knight a doughter hadde by his wyf, 13420 

And never ne hadde mo in al his lyf. 

Fair was this mayde in excellent beaute 

Above every wight that men may se ; 

For nature hath with sovereyn diligence 

I-formed hir in so gret excellence. 

As though sche wolde say, *'Lo, I nature, 

Thus can I forme and peynte a creature, 

Whan that me lust; who can me counterfete ? 

Pigmalion ? nought, though he alwey forge and bete, 

Or grave, or peynte ; for I dar wel sayn, 13430 

Apelles, Zeuxis, schulde wirche in vayn. 

Other to grave, or paynte, or forge or bete, 

If thay presumed me to counterfete. 

For he that is the former principal, 

Hath maad me his viker general 

To forme and peynte erthely creature 

Right as me lust, al thing is in my cure 

Under the moone that may wane and waxe. 

And for my werke no thing wol I axe ; 

My lord and I ben fully at accord. 13440 

I made hir to the worschip of my lord ; 

So do I alle myn other creatures, 

What colour that thay been, or what figures." 

Thus semeth me that nature wolde say. 

This mayde was of age twelf yer and tway, 
In which that nature hath suclie delite. 
For right as sche can peynte a lili white 
And rody a rose, right with such peynture 
Sche peynted hath this noble creature 
Er sche was born, upon her hmes fre, 13450 

Wlieras by right such colours schulde be ; 
And Phebus deyed hadde hire tresses grete, 
1-lyk to the stremes of his borned hete. 
And if that excellent was hir beaute, 
A thousand fold more vertuous was sche. 
In hire ne lakketh no condicioun, 
That is to preyse, as by discrecioun. 
As wel in body as goost chaste was sche ; 
For which sche floured in virginite, 

13420. This knight a daughter. Mas, Harl. and Lansd. omit the first tv/o 
words, and read the line, A dowjhter he hadde by his wyf. 

13431. Apelles, Zeuxis. The" Harl. and LanBd. Ms?, read the names cor- 
ruptly, Appollus, Zepherus. Thia retereuce to the painters of antiquity, j« 
well as most of the idea?; relating to the personilicaiiun and operations of 
nature, are taken from tlie Jlomnn de la Hone. See vol. iii. p. 102-3, ed. Meoiia 

13451. Ihave in this line adopted Tyrwhiit's reading. The Harl. INIs. reud. 
Here als bri/jht as such colour schulde be. Ms. Lansd, has the same reading. 



Sdd THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



With alle hiimilite and abstinence, 134G0 

With alle attemperaunce and pacience, 

With mesure eek of beryng of array. 

Discret sche was in answeryng alway, 

Though sche were wis as Pallas, dar I sayn, 

Hir facound eek ful wommanly and playn. 

Noon countrefeted termes hadde sche 

To seme wys ; but after hir degre 

Sche spak, and alle hire wordes more and lesse 

Sounyng in vertu and in gentilesse. 

Schamefast sche was in maydenes schamfastnesse, 

Constant in hert, and ever in besynesse, 13571 

To dryve hire out of idel slogardye. 

Bachus had of hir mouth no maistrye ; 

For wyn and thought doon Venus encrece, 

As men in fuyr wil caste oyle or grece. 

And of hir oughne vertu unconstreigned, 

Sche hath ful ofte tyme hire seek y-feyned, 

For that sche wolde fleen the companye, 

Wher likly was to treten of folye, 

As is at festes, reveles, and at daunces, 13480 

That ben occasiouns of daliaunces. 

Suche thinges maken children for to be 

To soone rype and bold, as men may se, 

Which is ful perilous, and hath ben yore ; 

For al to soone may sche lerne lore 

Of boldenesse, whan sche is a wyf. 

And ye maystresses in youre oldelyf 

That lordes doughtres han in governaunce, 

Ne taketh of my word no displesaunce ; 

Thinketh that ye ben set in governynges 13490 

Of lordes doughtres, oonly for tuo thinges ; 

Outlier for ye han kept your honeste, 

Other elles for ye han falle in frelete, 

And knowe wel y-nough the olde daunce, 

And conne forsake fully such meschaunce 

For evermo ; therfore, for Cristes sake, 

Kt'peth wel tho that ye undertake. 

A theof of venisoun, that hath for-laft 

His licorousnesse, and al his theves craft. 

Can kepe a forest best of every man. 18500 

13474. wyn and thought. T hare retained wyn instead of wille, whicb lat- 
ter is tlie reading of tlie Hail, and I.ansd. Mss, 'ilie sense would seem to 
require, as Tyrwhitl conjectures, slouthe instead of thouqht, but this is not 
found in the MS8. The Lansd. Ms. reads, with Tyrwhitt, youthe. 

i;U97. This line i-s given from the Harl. and Laiisd. Mss., instead of Tyr- 
wliitt's reading, To teclie hem vertue loke that ye lie slake. 



THE TALE OF THE DOCTOR OF PHISIK. 367 



Now kepe hem wel, for and ye wil ye can ; 

Loke wel, that ye unto no vice assent, 

Lest ye be dampned for your wikked entent, 

For who so doth, a traytour is certayn ; 

And taketh keep of that that I schal sayn ; 

Of al tresoun sovereyn pestilence 

Is, whan a wight bytrayeth innocence. 

Ye fadres, and ye modres eek also, 

Though ye han children, be it oon or mo, 

Youre is the charge of al her sufiferaunce, 13510 

Whiles thay be under your governaunce. 

Beth war, that by ensample of youre lyvynge, 

Outher by necgligence in chastisynge. 

That thay iie perische ; for I dar wel seye, 

If that thay doon, ye schul ful sore abeye. 

Under a schepherd softe and necligent. 

The wolf hath many a schep and lamb to-rent. 

SufBceth oon ensample now as here. 

For I moot turne agein to my matiere. 

This mayde, of which I telle my tale expresse^ 13520 
So kept hir self, hir neded no maystresse ; 
For in hir lyvyng maydens mighte rede. 
As in a book, every good word and dede, 
That longeth unto a mayden vertuous ; 
Sche was so prudent and so bounteous. 
For which the fanje outsprong on every syde 
Bothe of hir beaute and hir bounte wyde ; 
That thurgh the lond thay praysed hir ilkoone, 
That lovede vertu, save envye alloone. 
That story is of other mennes wele, 185.^0 

And glad is of his sorwe and unhele, 
The doctor made this descripcioun. 
This mayde wente upon a day into the toun 
Toward the temple, with hir moder deere, 
As is of yonge maydenes the manere. 

Now was ther than a justice in the toun, 
That governour was of that regioun. 
And so bifel, this juge his eyghen cast 
Upon this mayde, avysing hir ful fast, 
As sche caiJi forby ther the juge stood. 18540 

Anoon his herte chaunged and his mood, 
So was he caught vjhh beaute of this mayde, 

13501. kepe hem. The Harl. Ms- reads hir. apparently incorrectly. 

13510. sufferaunce. So the Harl, and Lansd. Mas. Tyrwhilt roads sur- 
veance. 

13532. The doctor. In the margin of a MS. quoted by Tyrwhitt this de* 
scription of euvy is ascribed to St. Augustiue. 



868 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And to him self ful prively he sayde, 

" This mayde schal be myn for any man." 

Anoon the feend into his herte ran, 

And taughte him sodeinlj^^, that he by shghte 

This mayde to his purpos wynne mighte. 

For certes, by no fors, ne by no meede, 

liim thought he was not able for to speede ; 

For sche was strong of freudes, and eek sche 1S550 

Conformed was in such soverayne beaute, 

Tliat wel he wist he might hir never wynne, 

As for to make hir with hir body synne. 

For which with gret deUberacioun 

He sent after a clerk was in the toun. 

The which he knew for subtil and for bold. 

This juge unto the clerk his tale hath told 

In secre wyse, and made him to assure, 

He schulde telle it to no creature ; 

And if he dede he schulde lese his heed. 135G0 

Whan that assented was this cursed reed. 

Glad was the juge, and made him gret cheere, 

And gaf him giftes precious and deere. 

Whan schapen was al this conspiracye 
Fro poynt to poynt, how that his leccheiie 
Parformed scholde be ful subtilly, 
A ye schul here after- ward openly, 
Hom goth this clerk, that higlite Claudius. 
This false juge, that highte Apius, — 
(So was his name, for it is no fable, 13570 

But knowen for a storial thing notable ; 
The sentence of itsoth is out of doute), — 
This false jugge goth now fast aboute 
To hasten his delit al that he may. 
And so bifel, soone after on a day 
This false juge, as telleth us the story, 
As he was wont, sat in his consistory. 
And gaf his domes upon sondry caas ; 
This false clerk com forth a ful good paas. 
And saide, "■ Lord, if that it be your wille, 18580 

As doth me right upon this ijitous bille. 



ing. 
ich 



Mss. Tyrwhitt reads Confermed and bouvfi, which seem to make a bettor 
eeiise. 

13557. clerk. This is the reading of the Harl. and Lansd. Mss. Tyrwhitt, 
who gives t]»e reading cfurl, says he took it from " the best mss. and ed. Ca. 
2. The comnKjn editt. have client. In the Jicnn. de la li. where this story ib 
feold, ver. 5815-5894, Claudius is isaWed Serge7it. of Appius: and accordingly 
Chaucer a little lower, ver. I'JiiO-!, calls him « servant— unto— A ppius.* " rit-rk 
seems the better reading, aa a cherl would hardly possesB thrala or bondch 
mou. 



TUTi: TALE OF THE DOCTOR OF PHISIK. 369 



In which I pleyne upon Virginius. 

And if he wile seyn it is nought thus, 

I wil it prove, and fynde good witnesse, 

That soth is that my bille wol exi)iesse.'* 

The juge answerd, " Of this in his absence 

I may not give diffinityf sentence. 

Let do him calle, and I wol gladly hiere ; 

Thou schalt have alle right, and no wrong heere." 

Virginius com to wite the jugges wille, 13590 

And right anoon was red this cursed bille j; 

The sentence of it was as ye schul heere. 

** To yow, my lord sire Apius so deere, 
Scheweth youre pore servaunt Claudius, 
How that a knight called Virginius, 
Ageins the lawe, agens alle equjte, 
Holdeth, expresse ageinst the wille of me, 
My servaunt, which that my thral is by right. 
Which fro myn hous was stolen on a night 
Whiles sche was ful yong, that wol I preve 13600 

By witnesse, lord, so that ye yow not greve ; 
Sche is nought his doughter, what so he say. 
Wherfore to yow, my lord the jugge, I pray, 
Yelde me my thralle, if that it be your wille.'* 
Lo, this was al the sentence of the bille. 

Virginius gan upon the clerk byholde ; 
But hastily, er he his tale tolde. 
And wolde have proved it, as schold a knight, 
And eek by witnessyng of many a wight, 
That al was fals that sayde his adversarie, 13610 

This cursed juge wold no lenger tarye, 
Ne heere a word more of Virginius, 
But gaf his jugement, and saide thus ; 
" I deme anoon this clerk his servaunt have 
Thou schalt no lenger in thin hous hir save. 
Go bringe hir forth, and put hir in oure warde. 
This clerk sehal have his thral ; thus I awarde." 

And whan this worthy knight Virginius, 
Thurg thassent of this juge Apius, 

Moste by force his deei-e doughter given 1 3620 

Unto the juge, in lecchery to lyven, 
He goth him hom, and sette him in his halle, 
And leet anoon his deere doughter calle ; 
And with a face deed as aisshen colde, 
Upon hir humble face he gan byholde, 
With fadres pite stiking thorugli his herte, 



i;i6l5. save. So Ms. Lausd. 



Ms. Harl. reads have. 

24 



\- 



870 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Al wolde he from his purpos not converte. 

" Dough ter," quod he, " Virginia by name, 

Ther ben tuo weyes, eyther deth or schame, 

That thou most sufifre, alias that I was bore ! 13630 

For never thou deservedest wherfore 

To deyen with a swerd or with a knyf. 

O deere doughter, ender of my hf, 

AVhich I have fostred up with such plesaunce. 

That thou nere never oute of my remembraunce ; 

O doughter, which that art my laste wo, 

And in this lif my laste joye also, 

O gemme of chastite in pacience 

Tak thou tliy deth, for this is my sentence ; 

For love and not for hate thou must be deed, 13640 

My pitous bond mot smyten of thin heed. 

Alias that ever Apius the say I 

Thus hath he falsly jugged the to day." 

And told hir al the caas, as ye bifore 

Han herd, it nedeth nought to telle it more. 

" Mercy, deere fader," quod this mayde. 
And with that word sche bothe hir amies lay 
Aboute his nekke, as sche was Avant to doo, 
(The teeres brast out of hir eyghen tiio), 
x^nd sayde : " Goode fader, schal I dye ? 3650 

Is tlier no grace ? is ther no remedye ? " 
"No, certeyn, deere doughter myn," quod he. 
" Than geve me leve, fader myn," quod sche, 
*' My deth for to compleyne a litel space ; 
For pardy Jepte gaf his doughter grace 
For to compleyne, er he hir slough, alias ! 
And God it woot, no thing was hir trespas 
But that she ran hir fader first to se, 
To welcome him with gret solempnite." 
And with that word aswoun sche fel anoon, 13660 

And after, whan hir swownyng was agoon, 
Sche riseth up, and to hir fader sayde ; 
" Blessed be God, that I schal deye a mayde. 

13640. For love. Rom. de la R. vol. ii. p. 77. 
Car il par amors, sans haine, 
A sa belle fiUe Virgine 
Tantost a la teste copie, 
Et puis au jug e presentee 
Devant tous en plain consistoire : 
Et 11 juges, selonc I'estoire, 
Le commanda tantv'St d prendre, &c. 

See below, v, 13670-3. 

13655. Jepte. The Harl. and Laiisd. Mas. read Jeffa. This reference to 
Jephtha's daughter is one of the anachronisms so common in the medieval 
poets, and which are found so late even as the ago of Shakespeare. 



THE PJIOLOGE OF TUB PARDONER. ^>71 

Geve me my detli, er that I have a schame. 

Do with your child your wille, a goddes name I " 

And with that word sche prayed him ful ofte, 

That with his swerd lie schulde smyte hir softe ; 

And with that word on swoiine doun sche fel. 

Hir fader, with ful sorwful hert and fel, 

Hir heed of smoot, and by the top it lieute, 13670 

And to the juge bigan it to presente. 

As he sat in his doom in consistory. 

And whan the juge it say, as saith the story, 

He bad to take him, and honge him faste. 

But right anoon all the poeple in thiaste 

To save the knight, for routhe and for pite, 

For knowen was the fals iniquite. 

The people anoon had suspect in this thing. 

By maner of this clerkes chalengyng. 

That it was by thassent of Apius ; 13680 

That wiste wel that he was leccherous. 

For which unto this Apius thay goon, 

And casten him in prisoun right anoon, 

Wher as he slough him self ; and Claudius, 

That servaunt was unto this Apius, 

Was denied for to honge upon a tree ; 

But Virginius in his grete pite 

Prayde for him, that he was exiled, 

And elles certes he had ben bigiled. 13690 

The remenaunt were anhanged, more and lesse, 

That were consented to this cursednesse. 

Her may men se how synne hath his merite ; 
Be war, for no man woot how God wol smyte 
In no degi*e, ne in which maner wise 
The worm of conscience wol agrise 
Of wicked lyf, though it so pryve be, 
That no man woot of it but God and he ; 
Whether that he be lewed man or lered, 
He not how soone that he may be afered. 
Therfore I rede yow this counseil take, 13700 

Forsakith synne, er synne yow forsake 



THE PROLOQE OF THE PARDONER. 

OwRE est gan swere as he were wood ; 
** Harrow ! " quod he, ** by nayles and by blood I 
This was a cursed thef, a fals justi<'e. 
As schendful deth as herte can devise 



^72 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



So falle upon his body and his boones I 

The devel I bykenne him al at oones ! 

Alias I to deere boughte sche hir l>eaute, 

Wherfore I say, that alle men majr se, 

That giftes of fortune or of nature 13710 

Ben cause of deth of many a creature. 

liir beaute was hir deth, I dar wel sayn ; 

Alias I 8o pitously as sche was slayn 1 

[Of bothe giftes, that I speke of now, 

Men han ful often more for harm than prow.) 

'* But trewely, myn owne maister deere, 
This was a pitous tale for to heere ; 
But natheles, pas over, tliis is no fors. 

I pray to God to save thy gentil corps, 
And eek thyn urinals, and thy jordanes, 13730 

Thyn Ypocras, and eek thy Galianes, 
And every boist ful of thi letuarie. 
God bless hem and oure lady seinte Marie 1 
So mot I then, thou art a propre man. 
And y-lik a prelat, by seint Runyan. 
Sayde I not wel ? can I not speke in terme ? 
But wel I woot, thou dost myn herte erme, 
I have almost y-caught a cardiacle ; 
By corpus boones, but I have triacle. 
Other elles a draught of moyst and corny ale, 13730 
Other but I hiere anoon a mery tale, 
Myn hert is brost for pite of that mayde. 
Thow, pardoner, thou, belamy,^' he sayde, 
" Tel us a tale, for thou canst many oon." 

" It schal be doon," quod he, " and that anoon. 
But first," quod he, " her at this ale-stake 
I wil both drynke and by ten on a cake." 
But right anoon the gentils gan to crie, 
"Nay, let him tellen us no ribaudye. 
Tel us som moral thing, that we may leere." 13740 

'* Gladly," quod he, and sayde as ye schal heere. 
•* But in the cuppe wil I me bethinke 

13706. So falle, &c. Instead of this and the foUowiug line, Tyrwhiit 
reads . — 

Come to thise juges and hir advocae. 
Algatethis sely maide ieelain, alas t 

13714-5. These two lines are omitted in the Harl. Ms., (ind they seem 
superfluous. Tyrwhitt has made them up from more than one MS. 

13720-1. These two lines are also omitted in the Hari. Ms., but they seem 
necessary for the sense, and are given here from the Lausd. Ms. J^'ur the ex- 
planation of the last of these two lines see the note on 1. 433. 

13741-2. Instead of these two lines, Tyrwhitt and tho Lansd. Ms. have. 



Som wit. and thaune wol we gladly here. 
J graunte y-wis, quod he, but I must thinke. 






TEE PBOLOGE OF THE PARDONER. 373 



Upon soin honest tale, whil I drinke." — 

" Lordyngs," quod he, " in chirche whan I proche, 

I peyne me to have an hauteyn speche, 

And ryng it out, as lowd as doth a belle, 

For I can al by rote that I telle. 

My teeme is alway oon, and ever was j 

Radix maloriim est cupiditas. 
*' First I pronounce whennes that I come, 13750 

And thanne my bulles schewe I alle and some ; 

Our liege lordes seal upon my patent, 

That schewe I first my body to warent, 

That no man be so hardy, prest ne clerk, 

Me to destourbe of Cristas holy werk. 

Bulles of popes, and of cardynales, 

Of patriarkes, and of bisshops, I schewe, 

And in Latyn speke I wordes fewe 

To savore with my predicacioun, 18760 

And for to stere men to devocioun. 

Thanne schewe I forth my longe crista! stoones, 

1-crammed ful of cloutes and of boones, 

Reliks thay ben, as wene thei echoon. 

Than have I in latoun a schulder boon, 

Which that was ot an holy Jewos scheep. 

Good men," say I, " tak of my wordes keep ; 

If tliat this boon be waische in eny welle, 

If cow, or calf, or scheep, or oxe swelle, 

That eny worm hath ete, or worm i-stonge, 13770 

Tak water of that welle, and waisch his tonge, 

And it is hool anoon ; and forthermore 

Of pokkes, and of scabbe, and every sore, 

Schal every scheep be hool, that of this welle 

Drynketh a draught ; tak heed eek what I telle. 

If that the goode man, that the beest oweth, 

Wol every wike, er that the cok him croweth, 

Fastynge, drynke of this welle a draught, 

As thilke holy Jew oure eldres taught, 

His beestes and his stoor schal multiplie. 13780 

And, sires, also it kelith jalousie. 

For though a man be ful in jalous rage, 

Let make wuth this water his potage, 

And never schal he more his wyf mystrist, 

Though he the soth of hir defaute wist ; 

Al hadde sche take prestes tuo or thre. 

13749. radix malorum. The Harl. and Lausd. Mss. have radix omnium 
malorum, but the word omnium seems to be redundant, and spoils the metre, 

13781. kelith. The Lansd. Ms. has, with Tyrwhitt, hdeth, which is perhaps 
the better reading. 



r 



374 THE CANTERBURY 7\i LES. 



Here is a meteyn eek, that ye may see ; 

He that his honde put is this metayn, 

He schal have multiplying of his grayn, 

Whan lie hath sowen, be it whete or otes, 13790 

So that ye offre pans or elles grootes, 

And, men and wommen, oon thing warne I yow ; 

If «iiy wight be in this chirche now, 

That hath doon synne orrible, that he 

Dar nought for schame of it schryven be ; 

Or ony womman, be sche yong or old, 

•That hath y-maad hir housbond cokewold, 

Such folk schal have no power ne grace 

To oflre to my relikes in this place. 

And who so tint him out of suche blame, 18800 

Thay wol come up and offre in Goddes riPirie, 

And I assoil?hem by the auctorite, 

Which that by buUe was i-graunted me. 

*' By this gaude have I wonne every yeer 
An hundred mark, syn 1 was pardonfer. 
1 stonde lik a clerk in my pulpit, 
And whan the lewed people is doun i-set, 
I preche so as ye have herd before, 
And telle hem an hondred japes more. 
Than peyne I me to strecche forth my neoke, 13810 
And est and west upon the people I bekke, 
As doth a dowfe, syttyng on a berne ; 
Myn hondes and my tonge goon so yerne, 
That it is joye to se my bus3'nesse, 
Of avarice and of such cursednesse 
Is al my preching, for to make hem fre 
To geve here pans, and namely unto me. 
l^or myn entent is nought but for to wynne, 
And no thing for correccioun of synne. 
I rekke never when thay ben i-beryed. 1382Q 

Though that here soules gon a blakeberyed. 

" For certes many a predicacioun 
Cometh ofte tyme of evel entencioun ; 
Som for plesauns of folk and flaterie, 
To ben avaunced by ypocrisie ; 
And som for veine gloir, and som for hate. 
For whan I dar not other weys debate, 
Than wil 1 stynge him with my tonge smerte 
In preching, so that he schal not asterte 
To be diliamed falsly, if that he 18880 

Hath trespast to my bretheren or to me. 
For though I telle not his propre name, 
Men schal wel knowe that it is the same 



THE PROLOGS OF THE PARDONER. 375 



By signes, and by other circiiinstaunt.'es. 

Thus quyt I folk, that doon us displeayaunces ; 

Thus put I out my yenym under hiewe 

Of holynes, to seme holy and trewe. 

But schortly myn entent I wol devyse, 

1 preche no thing but of coveityse. 

Therfor my teem is yit, and ever was, 13840 

Radix malorum est cupiditas 

" Thus can I preche agayn the same vice 
Which that I use, and that is avarice. 
But though my self be gulty in the synne, 
Yit can 1 make other folk to twynne 
From avarice, and soone to repent. 
But that is not my principal entent ; 
I preche no thing but for coveitise. 
Of this matier it ought i-nough suffise. 

** Than telle I hem ensamples may oon 13850 

Of olde thinges longe tyme agoon. 
For lewed poeple loven tales olde : 
Which thinges can thay wel report and holde. 
What ? trowe ye, whiles I may preche 
And Wynne gold and silver for I teche, 
That 1 wil lyve in povert wilfully ? 
Nay, nay, I thought it never trewely. 
For I wol preche and begge in sondry londes. 
I wil do no labour with myn hondes, 
ISe make basketis and lyve therby, 13860 

Bycause I wil nought begge ydelly. 
I wol noon of thapostles counterfete ; 
I wol have money, woUe, chese, and whete, 
AI were it geven of the prestes page. 
Or of the porest wydow in a village, 
And sohold hir children sterve for famyn. 
Nay, 1 wol drinke licour of the wyn, 
And have a joly wenche in every toun. 
But herkneth, lordynges, in conclusioun 
Youre hkyng is that I schal telle a tale. 18870 

Now have I dronk a draught of corny ale, 
By God, I hope I schal telle yow a thing, 
That schal by resoun be at youre liking ; 
For though my self be a ful vicious man, 
A moral tale yit I yow telle can, 

13864 prestes page. The Lansd. Ms. reads porest page, wliich is tlie read- 
ing adopted by Tyrwhitt. 

The Pardoneres Tale. TMe beautiful moral story appears to have been 
taken from a fabliau, uow lost, but of which the outline is preserved in the 
Cetiio Nvoelle Antiche, Nov. Ixxxii., as well as the story itself by Chaucer. 



S''Q THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Which 1 am wont to preche, for to wynne. 
Now hold your pees, my tale I wol bygiune," 



THE PARDONERES TALE. 

In Flanndres whilom was a conipanye 
Of yonge folkes, that haunted folye, 
As ryot, hasard, stywes, and tavernes; 13880 

Wher as with lutes, harpes, and gyternes, 
Thaydaunce and play at dees borhe day and night, 
And ete also, and drynk over her might ; 
Tliurgh which thay doon the devyi sacrifise 
Withinne the develes temple, in cursed wise, 
By superfluite abhominable. 
Her othes been so greet and so dampnable, 
That it is grisly for to hiere hem swere. 
Our biisful Lordes body thay to-tere ; 
Hem though te Jewes rent him nought y-nough ; 13890 
And ech of hem at otheres synne lough. 
And right anoon ther come tombesteris 
[Fetis and smale, and yonge fruitesteres, 
Singers with harpes, baudes, wafereres,] 
Whiche that ben verray develes oiTiceres, 
To kyndle and blowe the fuyr of leccherie, 
That is annexid unto glotonye. 
The holy wryt take I to my witnesse. 
That luxury is in wyn and dronkenesse. 
Lo, how that dronken Loth unkyndely 13900 

Lay by his doughtres tuo unwityngly, 
So dronk he was he niste what he wrought. 
11 erodes, who so wel the story sought, 
Whan he of wyn was repleet at his fest, 
Right at his oughne table gaf his hest 
To sle the baptist Johan ful gilteles. 
Seneca seith a good worde douteles ; 
He saith he can no difference fynde 
Hetuyx a man that is out of liis mynde, 

13889, to-tere. The common oaths in the middle ages were by the dilterent 
parts of God'B body ; and the popular preachers represented that profane 
swearers tore Christ's body by their imprecations. 

13893-4. These two lines are omitted in the flarl. Ms. 

13898. holy loryt. Ms. Harl. and others have in the margin the reference. 
If Nolite inebriare vino, in quo est liixuria. 

lo!>00. dronken Loth. This transgression of Lot is one of the most favorite 
examples, in the medieval moralists, of the ill consequences of drunkenness. 
Compa:e Piers Ploughman, 1. 512, etseqq. 

13907. Serieca. " Perhaps he refers to Epiet. Ixxxiii. Extende in plures 
dies ilium ebrii habitum : nunquid de furore dubitatis? nunc quoque non 
eet minor sed livcyiov."—Tyrwhiti. 



tZTE PARLONEUES TALE. 



And a man the which is dronkelewe ; 18910 

But that woodnes, fallen in a schrewe, 
Persevereth lender than doth dronkenesse. 

O glutonye, ful of corsidnesse ; 
O cause first of our confusioun, 
O original of oure danipnacioun, 
Til Crist had bought us with his blood agayn ! 
Loketh, how dere, schortly for to sayn, 
Abought was first this cursed felonye ; 
Corupt was al this w^orld for glotonye. 
Adam our fader, and his wyf also, 13920 

Fro Paradys to labour and to wo 
Were dry ven for that vice, it is no drede. 
For whils that Adam fasted, as I rede, 
He was in Paradis, and whan that he 
Eet of the fruyt defendit of a tre, 
He was out cast to wo and into peyne. 

glotony, wel ought us on the pleyne I 
O, wist a man how many maladyes 
Folwith of excesse and of glotony es, 
He wolde be the more mesurable 13930 
Of his diete, sittyng at his table. 
Alias ! the schorte throte, the tendre moutli, 
Maketh that Est and West, and North and South, 
In erthe, in watir, in ayer, man to swynke, 
To gete a sely glotoun mete and drynke. 
Of tliis matier, O Poul, wel canstow trete. 
Mete unto v/ombe, and wombe unto mete, 
Schal God destroyen bothe, as Powel saith. 
Alias 1 a foul thing is it by my faith 
To say this word, and fouler is the dede, 13940 
Whan men so drynke of the whyt and rede, 
Tliat of his throte he makith his privo 
Thurgh thilke cursed superfluite. 
Thapostil wepyng saith ful pitously, 
Ther walkith many, of which you told have I, 

1 say it now wepyng with pitous vois, 
Thay are enemy s of Cristes croys ; 
Of which the ende is deth, w^ombe is her God. 
O wombe, o bely, o stynking is thi cod, 

13918. felonye. The Laiisd. Ms. reads, with Tyrwhitt, vilanie. 

13923. whils that Adam. In the margin of Ms. llarl. is the quotation, 
Quanidiu jejunavit Adam in Paradyso fuit, come^lit et ejectus est ; statim 
duxit uxorem, &c. ll is from Hicrovymus amtra Jovivianuvi. 

13'Jo7. Mete unto wombe. The margin of the Hail Ms. has the quotation, 
8ca ventris et venter eseis, Deus autem hunc et illam destruet. &e. 

13'J-ll. Thapostil . . . saith. J'hilipp. iii. 18, 19, Mulli eniin amhulant, 
quos etepe dicebam vobis (nunc autem et Hens dico) inimicos crucis Chrieti : 
quorum tiniti intoritus, quorum duua vejitor est. 



378 TUE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Fulfild of dong and of corrupcioun ; 13950 

At eyther ende of the foul is the soun. 

How gret cost and labour is the to fynde ! 

These cokes how they stamp, and streyn, and grynde. 

And torne substaunce into accident, 

To fulfille thy licorous talent 1 

Out of the liarde boones gete thay 

The niary, for thay cast nought away 

That may go thurgh the golet softe and soote ; 

Of spicery and levys, barke and roote, 

Schal ben his sause maad to his delyt 13960 

To make him have a newe appetit. 

But certes he that haunteth suche delices, 

Is deed ther, whiles that he lyveth in vices. 

A licorous thing is wyn, and dronkenesse 

Is ful of stry vyng and of wrecchednesse. 

O dronke man, disfigured is thi face, 

Sour is thi breth, foul artow to embrace ; 

A thurgh thi dronkenesse sowneth the soun, 

As though thou seydest ay, Sampsoun, Sampsoun ; 

And yit, God wot, Sampson drank never wyn 13970 

Thow fallist, as it were a stiked swyn ; 

Thy tonge is lost, and al thin honest cure, 

For dronkenes is verray sepulture 

Of mannes witt and his discrecioun. 

In whom that drynk hath dominacioun, 

He can no counseil kepe, it is no drede. 

Ne keep yow from the white and from the rede, 

And namely fro the white wyn of Leepe, 

That is to selle in Fleetstreet or in Chepe. 

This wyn of Spayne crepith subtily 139G0 

In other wynes growyng faste by, 

Of which ther riseth such fumosite, 

That whan a man had dronke draughtes thre, 



139C8. dronkenesse. Tyrwhitt has dronken nose, ■which is perhaps the bet 
ter reading. 

13978. ichite wyn of Leepe. " According to the geographers, Lepe was not 
far from Cadiz. This wine, of whatever sort it may have been, wa^ pn-liably 
much stronger than the Gascon wines, usually drunk in England. La 
Kcehelle and Bordeaux, the twn chief ports of Gascony, were both, iu 
Chaucer's time, part of the English dominions. Spanish wines might also 
be more alhiring on account of their greater rarity. Among the Orders of 
the Royal Household, iu IGOi, is the following (Ms. Harl. 293, fol. 162) ; 'And 
whereas, in lymes past, Spani-sh wines, called sacke, were little or noe whit 
use in our courte, and that in later years, though not of ordinary allowance' 
it was thouglit convenient, that noblemen, &c, might have a boule or glass, 
&c. We understanding that it is now used as common drinke, &c., reduce 
the allow;mce to twelve gallons aday for the court, &c.' " — Ti/rwhitt. 

13979. Fleetstreet., So the Hurl. Ms. The Lansd. Ms. reads Fischestrete, 
which is the reading adopted by Tyrwhitt. 



THE PARDONERES TALE. 379 

And weneth that be be at bom in Chepe, 

He is in Spayne, rigbt at tbe toun of Lepe, 

Nougbt at tbe Rocbel, ne at Burdeaux toun , 

And tbanne wol tbai say, Sampsoun, Sanipsoun, 

But berken, lordyngs, o word, I you pray, 

Tbat alle tbe soverayn actes, dar I say. 

Of victories in tbe Olde Testament, 13990 

Tbat thurgb tbe verray God omnipotent 

Were doon in abstinence and in prayere ; 

Lokitb tbe Bible, and tber ye may it biere. 

Loke Attbila, tbe grete conquerour, 

Deyd in bis sleep, witb scbame and disbonour, 

Bleedyng ay at bis nose in dronkenesse ; 

A captayn scbuld ay iyve in sobrenesse. 

And over al tbis, avyse yow rigbt wel, 

Wbat was comaunded unto Lamuel ; 

Nougbt Samuel, but Lamuel say I. 14000 

Reditb tbe Bible, and fyndetb expresly 

Of wyn gevyng to bem tbat ban justice. 

No more of tbis, for it may well suffice. 

And now tbat I bave spoke of glotonye, 

Now wil I yow defende basardrye. 

Hasard is verray moder of lesynges, 
And of deceipt, and cursed forsweringes ; 
Blaspbeme of Crist, manslaugbt, and wast also 
Of catel, and of tyme ; and fortbermo 
It is reproef, and contrair of bonour, 14010 

For to be balde a comun basardour. 
And ever tbe beyer be is of astaat, 
Tbe more is be bolden desolaat. 
If tbat a prince use basardrie, 
In alle governance and poUcie 
He is, as by comun opinioun, 
Holde tbe lasse in reputacioun. 
Stilbon, tbat was a wis embasitour, 
Was sent unto Corintbe witb gret bonour 
Fro Lacidome, to make bir alliaunce ; 14020 

13903. Mere. Tbe Lansd. :M8. and Tyrwhitthave hre. 

13994. Atthila. Attila died in the ni^'ht sulfocated by a biimorihage, 
brought on by a debauch, in ihc year 453, when he was preparinj^ for a new 
invariion of Italy. 

14001. Rt'dith the Bible. See Proverbs, xxiii. 

1401iO. Lacidome. The Lansdovvne Ms. reads Calidonije, and Tyrwhilt 
adopts Calidone inliis text ; but he observes in the note, " John of Salisbury, 
from whom our author probably took this story and the following, calls liirn 
(hi/on. Polycrat. lib. i. c. 5. Cbilon Lacedrnmonius, jugendje societatih causa 
missus Corinthum, duces et seniores populi ludentcs inVenit in alea. Inlecto 
itaquv, iiegotio revorsus est, iSjo. Accordingly, in ver. 14020, Ms. C 1. roadB 
rery rightly Lcicedomye instead of ( 'itHtLiuc, the common reading. Our 
ftutbor has before used Lacedomie for Lactdvumony 



And whan he cam, him happede par chauncet v 

That alle the grettest that were of that lond 

Playing atte hasard he hem fond. 

For which, as soone as it mighte be, 

He stal him hoom agein to his contre, 

And saide ther, " I nyl nought iese my name, 

I nyl not take on me so gret diffame, 

Yow for to allie unto noon hasardoures. 

Sendeth som other wise embasitoures, 

For by my trouthe, me were lever dye, 14030 

Than I yow scholde to hasardours allye. 

For ye, that ben so glorious in honoures, 

Schal not allie yow with hasardoures, 

As by my wil, ne as by my trete." 

This wise philosophre thus said he. 

Lo eek how that tlie king Demetrius ^ 

The king of Parthes, as the book saith us, f 

Sent him a paire dees of gold in scorn, I 

For he had used hasard ther to-forn ; f 

For which he hield his gloir and his renoun 14040 k 

At no valieu or reputacioun. f 

Lordes may fynde other maner play | 

Honest y-nough to dryve away the day. 'i 

Now wol I speke of othes fals and grete J 

A word or tuo, as other bookes entrete. 
Gret swering is a thing abhominable. 
And fals swering is more reprovable. 
The hyhe God forbad sweryng at al, 
Witnes on Mathew ; but in special 

Of sweryng saith the holy Jeremye, 14050 

Thou schalt say soth thin othes, and not lye ; 
And swere in doom, and eek in right wisnes ; 
But ydel sweryng is a cursednes. 
Bihold and se, ther in the firste table 
Of hihe Goddes heste honurable, 
How that the secounde heste of him is this ; 
Tak not in ydel my name or amys. 
Lo, rather he forbedith such sweryng, 
Than homicide, or many a corsed thing. 
1 say that as by order thus it etondith ; 14060 

This knoweth he that the hestes understondeth, 
How that the second best of God is that. 
And forthermore, I wol the telle a plat, 
That vengance schal not parte fro his ho us, 

14038. hazard. This is Tvrwhitt's reading, supported by the Lansd. Ms., 
mhioh reads hasardry. The Harl. Ms. reads tavern, which d'>'^8 not agree BO 
well with the context. 



THE PARBONERES TALE. -^81 



That of his othes is outrageous. I 

'* By Goddes precious hert, and by his nayles, f 

And by the blood of Crist, that is in Hayles, \ 

Seven is my chaunce, and also cink and tray ! : 

By Goddes armes, and thou falsly play, * 

This daggere schal thurgh thin herte goo ! " 14'J70 e 

This fruyt conieth of the bicchid boones tuo, \ 

Forswering, ire, falsnes, homicide. I 

Now for the love of Crist that for us dyde, | 

Levitli youre othis, bothe gret and smale. \ 

But, sires, now wol I telle forth my tale, j \ 

These riottoures thre, of which I telle, \ 

Longe erst than prime rong of eny belle, I 

Were set hem in a tavern for to dryake ; f 
And as thay sat, thay herd a bell clinke 

Biforn a corps, was caried to the grave ; I40B0 . 

That oon of hem gan calle unto his knave, j 

** Go bet," quoth he, '* and axe redily, 5 

What corps is that, that passeth her forthby ; f 

And loke that thou report his name wel." I 

'* Sire," quod he, ** but that nedeth never a del ; \ 

It was me told er ye com heer tuo houres ; • 
He was, pardy, an old felaw of youres. 
And sodeinly he was i-slayn to night ; 
For-dronk as he sat on his bench upright, 
Ther com a prive thef, men clepen Deth, 14090 
That in this contre al the peple sleth. 
And with his spere he smot his hert a- tuo. 
And went his way withoute wordes mo, 

14066. his nayles. Not his finger-nallB, but the nails with which he was I 
nailed to the cross. These were objects of superstition in the middle akob. { 
Sir John Maundeville, c. vii. says, "And thereby in the walle is tlie place \ 
where the four nayles of o are Lord weren hidd ; for he had two in his ; 
hondes, and two in his feet ; and of on of theiae the emperour of Constanty- 

noble made a brydille to his hors, to here him in bataylle ; and thorghever- 
tue thereof he "oveream his enemyes. &c." He had said before, c. ii. that 
" on of the nayles that Crist was naylled with on the cros," was at Oonstanty- 
noble ; and "on in France, in the kinges chapelle." 

14067. blood . . . in Haijlcs. "Tlie abbey of Hailes, in Gloucestershire, wad 
founded by Richard, kin'g of the Romans, brother to Henry 111. This pre- 
cious relic, which was afterwards commonly called • the blood of Hailes,' was 
brought out of Germany by the son of Richard, Edmund, who bestowed a 
tliird part of it on liis father's abbey of Hailes, and some time after gave the 
other two parts to an abbey of his own foundation, at Ashrug, near Berk- 
hamsted. Hollinsh. v. ii- p. 215."— Tyrwhitf- 

14071. bicchid boones. This is the general reading of the manuscripts, and 
Tyrwhitt acted unadvisedly in changing it to bicchtl. Birched bones appears 
to have been not an uncommon term for dice : in the Towneley mystfry of 
the Processus Talentorum, where the executioners are deciding tlicir right to 
Christ's tunic by throwing the dice, one of them (p. 241), who haa loBt, es- 
claims,— 

I wafa falsly begylyd withe thlse byched hones, 
Ther cureyd thay bt I 



382 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

He hath a thousand slayn this pestilence. 

And, maister, er ye come in his presence, 

Me thinketh that it is f ul necessarie, 

For to be war of such an adversarie ; 

Beth redy for to nieete him evermore. 

Thus taughte me my dame, 1 say nomore." 

" By seinte Mary ! " sayde this taverner, 14100 

** The child saith soth ; for he hath slayn this yeer, 

Hens over a myle, withinne a gret village, 

Bothe man and womman, child, and hyne, and page ; 

I trowe his habitacioun be there. 

To ben avysed gret wisdom it were, 

Er that he dede a man that dishonour." 

'* Ye, Goddis amies ! " quod this ryottour, 

** Is it such peril with him for to meete ? 

I schal him seeke by way and eek by strete. 

I make avow to Goddis digne boonesi 14110 

Herkneth, felaws, we thre ben al oones ; 

Let ech of us hold up his hond to other, 

And ech of us by come otheres brother. 

And we wil slee this false traitour Deth ; 

He schal be slayne, that so many sleeth, 

By Goddis dignete, er it be night ! " 

Togideres han these thre here trouthes plight 
To lyve and dye ech of hem with other. 
As though he were his oughne sworne brother. 
And up thai startyn, al dronke in this rage, 14130 

And forth thai goon towardes that village, 
Of which the taverner hath spoke biforn, 
And many a grisly oth than han thay sworn, 
And Cristes blessed body thay to-rent ; 
Deth schal be deed, if that they may him hent. 
Right as thay wolde have torned over a style, 
Whan thai han goon nought fully a myle. 
An old man and a pore with hem mette. 
This olde man ful mekely hem grette, 
And saide thus, "Lordynges, God yow se ! " 14180 

The proudest of the ryotoures thre 
Answerd agein, *' What? carle, with sory grace, 
Why artow al for- wrapped save thi face ? 
Whi lyvest thou so longe in so gret age ? " 
This olde man gan loke on his visage 

14103. and hyne. I have inserted these two words, which are not in Mas. 
Harl. and Lansd., from Tyrwhltt ; they appear necessary to complete the 
line. 

14119. swnme. Tyrwhitt reads horen ; but he does not appear to have been 
aware of the frequency of this sworn fraternity in medieval story. 



TUE PARDONEBES TALE. 383 



And saide thus, " For that I can not fynde 

A man, though that 1 walke into Inde, 

Neither in cite noon, ne in village, 

That wol chaunge his youthe for myn age ; 

And therfore moot I have myn age stille 14140 

As longe tyme as it is Goddes wille. 

And deth, alias ! ne wil not have my lif. 

Thus walk I lik a resteles caytif, 

And on the ground, which is my modres gate, 

I knokke with my staf, erly and late, 

And saye, " Leeve moder, let me in. 

Lo, how I wane, fleisch, and blood, and skyn. 

Alias ! whan schuln my boones ben at rest ? 

Moder, with yow wil I cliaunge my chest, 

That in my chamber longe tyme hath be, 14150 

Ye, for an liaire clout to wrap in me.' 

But yet to me sche wol not do that grace, 

For which ful pale and welkid is my face. 

But, sires, to yow it is no curtesye 

To speke unto an old man vilonye, 

But he trewpas in word or elles in dede. 

In holy writ ye may your self wel rede, 

Agens an old man, hoor upon his hede, 

Ye schold arise ; wherefor 1 yow rede, 

Ne doth unto an old man more harm now, 14160 

Namore than ye wolde men dede to yow 

In age, if that ye may so long abyde. 

And God be with you, wherso ye go or ryde I 

I moot go thider as I have to goo." 

" Nay, olde cherl, by God ! thou schalt not so,' 

Saj'^de that other hasardour anoon ; 

** Thou partist nought so lightly, by seint Johan 

Thou spak right now of thiike traitour Deth, 

That in this contre alle oure frendes sleth ; 

Have her my trouth, as thou art his aspye, 14170 

Tel wher he is, or elles thou schalt dye. 

By God and by that holy sacrament 1 

For sothly thou art oon of his assent 

To slen us yonge folk, thou false theef." 

** Now, sires, than if that yow be so leef 

To fynde Deth, torn up this croked way. 

For in that grove I laft him, by my fay I 

Under a tree, and ther he wil abyde ; 

Ne for your bost he nyl him no thing hyde. 

Se ye that ook ? right ther ye schuln him fynde. 14180 

God save yow, that bought agein maiikynrlo. 

And yow amend." Thus sayde this olde md.i. 



384 



THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



And everich of these riotoures ran, 

Til thay come to the tre, and ther thay founde 

Of florins fyn of gold y-coyned rounde, 

Wei neygh a seven busshels, as hem thought. 

No lenger thanne after Deth thay sought ; 

But ech of hem so glad was of that sight, 

For that the florens so faire were and bright, 

That doun thai sette hem by that precious hord. 14190 

The yongest of hem spak the firste word. 

" Bretheren," quod he, " take keep Avhat 1 schal say ; 

My witte is gret, though that I bourde and play. 

This tresour hath fortune to us given 

In mirth and jolyte our lif to lyven, 

And lightly as it comth, so wil we spende. 

Ey, Goddis precious dignite I who wende 

To day, that we schuld hav^e so fair a grace? 

But might this gold be caried fro this place 

Hom to myn hous, or ellis unto youres, 14200 

(For wel 1 wot that this gold is nought oures), 

Than were we in heyh felicite. 

But trewely by day it may not be ; 

Men wolde say that we were tlieves stronge, 

And for oure tresour doon us for to honge. 

This tresour moste caried be by night 

As wysly and as slely as it might. 

Wherfore I rede, that cut among us alle 

We drawe, and let se wher the cut wil falle ; 

And he that hath the cut, with herte blithe 14210 

Bchal renne to the toun, and that ful swithe, 

And bring us bred and wyn ful prively; 

And tuo of us schal kepe subtilly 

This tresour wel ; and if he wil not tarie, 

Whan it is night, we wol this tresour carie 

By oon assent, ther as us liketh best." 

That oon of hem the cut brought in his fest. 
And bad hem drawe and loke wher it wil falle ; 
And it fel on the yongest of hem alle ; 
And forth toward the toun he went anoon. 14220 

And al so soone as he was agoon. 
That oon of hem spak thus unto that other ; 
*' Thow wost wel that thou art my sworne brother, 
Thy profyt wol I telle the anoon. 
Thow wost wel that our felaw is agoon, 
And her is gold, and that ful gret plente, 
That schal departed be among us thre. 

14186. a seven busshels. So Mss. l.'arl. and Lansd. Tyrwhitt reads an 
eighte bussheU. 



THE PARDONERBS TALE. 386 



But natheles, if I can schape it so, 

That it departed were bitwix us tuo, 

llad I not doon a frendes torn to tlie ? " 14230 

That other answerd, " I not how that may be ; 

He wot wel that the gold is with us tway. 

What schulde we than do ? what schuld we say ? " 

** Schal it be counsail ? " sayde the ferste schrewe, 

•' And I schal telle the in wordes fewe 

What we scliul doon, and bringe it wel aboute." 

'• 1 graunte," quod that other, " withoute doute, 

That by my trouth I wil the nought bywray." 

"Now," quod the first, "thou wost wel wo ben 
tway, 
And two of us schuln strenger be than oon. 14240 

Liok, whanne he is sett, thou right anoon 
Arys, as though thou woldest witli him pleye ; 
And I schal ryf him thurgh the sydes tweye, 
Whils that thou strogelesi with him as in game, 
And with thi dagger loke thou do the same ; 
And than schal al the gold departed be, 
My dere frend, bitwixe the and me ; 
Than may we oure lustes al fulfille. 
And play at dees right at our owne wille." 
And thus acf^orded ben these schrewes twayn, UiJ50 
To sle the thi'idde, as ye herd me sayn. 

This yongest, which that wente to the toun, 
Ful fast in hert he rollith up and doun 
The beaute of the florins newe and bright ; 
" Lord ! " quod he, " if so were that 1 might 
Have al this gold unto my self alloone, 
Ther is no man that lyveth under the troone 
Of God, that schulde lyve so mery as I.' 
And atte last the feend oure enemy 
Put in his thought, that he schuld poysoun beye, 
With which he miglite sle his felaws tweye. 14361 

For why, the feend fond him in such lyvynge, 
That he had leve to sorwe him to brynge. 
For this witterly was his ful entent 
To slen hem bothe, and never to repent. 
And forth he gotli, no lenger wold he tary, 
Into the toun unto a potecary, 
And prayde him that he him wolde sella 
Som poysoun, that he might his rattis quelle. 
And eek ther was a polkat in his hawe, 14270 

That, as he saydo, his ca[)ouns had i-slawe ; 
And said he wold him wreke, if that he might, 
Ou yerniyn, that destroyed him by night. 




Thapotecary answerd : *' And thou sclialt have 

A thing that, also God my soule save, 

In al this world ther nys no creature, 

That ete or dronk had of this confecture, 

Nought but the mountannce of a corn of whete, 

That he ne schuld his lif anoon for-lete ; 

Ye, sterve he schal, and that in lasse while, 14280 

Than thou wilt goon a paas not but a myle ; 

The poysoun is so strong and violent." 

This cursed man hath in his hond i-hent 

This poysoun in a box, and sins he ran 

Into the nexte stret unto a man, 

And borwed of him large hotels thre ; 

And in the two his poysoun poured he ; 

The thrid he keped clene for his drynke. 

For al the night he schop him for to swynke 

In carying the gold out of that place. 14290 

And whan this riotour, with sory grace, 

Hath fillid with wyn his grete hotels thre, 

To his felaws agein repaireth he. 

What nedith it therof to sermoun more ? 
For right as thay had cast his deth bifore. 
Right so thay han him slayn, and that anoon. 
And whan this was i-doon, thus spak that oon : 
" Now let us drynk and sitte, and make us mery 
And siththen we wil his body bery." 
And afterward it happed him par cas, 14300 

To t^ke the hotel ther the poysoun was, 
And drank, and gaf his feiaw drink also, 
For which anon thay sterved bothe tuo. 
But certes I suppose that Avyeen 
Wrot never in canoun, ne in non fen, 
Mo wonder sorwes of empoisonyng. 
Than hadde these wrecches tuo or here endyng. 
Thus endid been these homicides tuo, 
And eek the fals empoysoner also. 

O cursed synne ful of cursednesse I 14310 

O traytorous homicidy 1 O wikkednesse ! 
O glotony, luxurie, and hasardrye ! 
Thou blasphemour of Crist with vilanye, 
And othes grete, of usage and of pride 1 
Alias I mankyndc, how may it bytyde. 
That to thy creatour, which that the wrought, 
And with his precious herte-blood the bought, 
Thou art so fals and so unkynde, alias ! 

14304. Avyeen The Harl. Ms. leads Amycen. Avicenna was one of the 
most distinguished j)hypi<'ian8 of the Arabian school of the eleventh century, 
Qiid enjoyed great popularity in the middle agea. 



TEE PABDONERES TALE. 387 



** Now, good men, God forgeve yow your trespas. 
And ware yow fro the synne of avarice. 14320 

Myn holy pardoun may you alle warice, 
So that ye offren noblis or starlinges. 
Or elles silver spones, broches, or ryoges. 
Bowith your hedes under this holy buUe. 
Cometh forth, ye wyves, and ofTreth your wolle ; 
Your names I entre her in my roUe anoon ; 
Into the blis of heven schul ye goon ; 
I yow assoile by myn heyh power, 
If ye woln ofifre, as clene and eek als cler 
As ye were born. And, sires, lo, thus I preche ; 14330 
And Jhesu Crist, that is oure soules leche, 
So graunte yow his pardoun to recey ve ; 
For that is best, I wil not yow disceyve. 
But, sires, o word forgat I in my tale ; 
I have reliks and pardoun in my male, 
As fair as eny man in Engelond, 
Which were me geve by the popes hond. 
If eny of yow wol of devocioun 
Offren, and have myn absolucioun, 
Cometh forth anon, and knelith her adoun, 14340 

And ye schul have here my pardoun. 
Or elles takith pardoun, as ye wende, 
Al newe and freissch at every townes eude, 
So that ye offren alway new and newe 
Nobles and pens, which that ben good and trewe. 
It is an honour to every that is heer, 
That ye may have a suffisaunt pardoner 
Tassoile yow in contre as ye ryde. 
For aventures which that may bytyde. 
For paraunter ther may falle oon, or tuo, 14350 

Doun of his hors, and breke his nekke a-tuo. 
Loke, such a seurete is to you alle 
That I am in your felaschip i-falle, 
That may assoyle you bothe more and lasse, 
Whan that the soule sclial fro the body passe. 
I rede that oure hoste schal bygynne, 
For he is most envoliped in synne. 
Com forth, sire ost, and offer first anoon, 
And thou schalt kisse the reliquis everichoon, 
Ye, for a grote ; unbocle anon thi purs." 14360 

" Nay, nay," quod he, " than have I Cristes curs I 

14341. And ye schul have here. Tvrwhltt reads And meekly receiveth. The 
LanBd. Mb. reads this and following liue ou a dltfeient rhyme, — 
Commetli for aiione, and kneletli ati'iwne here^ 
/.ttd ye flcUai h&ye my pardon thai la dere. 



SS8 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Let be," quod he, " it schal not be, so theech. 

Thou woldest make me kisse thin olde breech, 

And swere it were a relik of a seynt, 

Though it were with thy foundement depeynt. 

But by the cros, which that seynt Heleyn fond, 

I wold I had thy coylons in myn bond. 

In stede of rehks, or of seintuary. 

Let cut hem of, I wol help hem to cary ; 

Thay schul be schryned in an hogges tord." 14370 

This Pardoner answerde nat o word ; 

So wroth he was, he wolde no word say. 

" Now," quod oure host, " I wol no lenger j^lay 

With the, ne with noon other angry man." 

But right anoon the worthy knight bygan, 

(Whan that he saugh that al the peple lough) 

" No more of this, for it is right y-nough. 

Sir Pardoner, be glad and mery of cheere ; 
And ye, sir host that ben to me so deere, 
I pray yow that ye kisse the Pardoner 3 IMtO 

And, Pardoner, pray yow draweth yow nei , 
And as we dede. let us laugh and play." 

Anon thay kisse, andriden forth her way. 

THE SCHIPMANNES PROLOGE 

[Our hoste upon his stirrops stode anon, 
And saide, '* Good men, herkeneth everichon, 
This was a thrifty tale for the nones. 
Sire parish preest," quod he, ** for Goddes bones, 

The Schipmannes Proloae. The Shipman's tale has no prologue in the 
Harl. Ms., and in other of the best copies of the Canterbury Talea. The pro- 
logue here gi-ven is from Tyrwhitt, who observes, — " The tale of the Shipmau 
in the best mss. has no prologue. What has been printed as such in the com- 
mon editions is evidently spurious. To supply this defect I have ventured, 
upon the authority of one ms. (and, I confess, not one of the best) to prefix to 
this tale the prologue which has usually been prefixe.l to the tale of the 
Squier. As this prologue was undoubtedly composed by Chaucer, it must 
have bad a place somewhere in this edition, and if 1 cannot prove that it was 
really intended by him for this place, I think the reader will allow that it fclls 
the vacancy extremely well. The Fardoneres tale may very properly be ciil ied 
a thrifty tale, and he himself a learned man (ver. 14475,8) ; and all the latter 
part, 'thougli highly improper i7\ the mouth of the curteis Squier, is perfectly 
suited to the character of the Shipman." The following short and doggerel 
prologue to the Shipman's tale, from the Laiisd. Ms., is given only as an ex- 
ample of the way in which different persons attempted to supply the dehcien" 
cies in Chaucer's untmished work : — 

Bot than spak oure oste unto maisterSchipman, 

" Maister," quod he, " to us summe tale tel ye can, 

Wherewithe ye myght glad al this company, 

If it were youre pleseinge. 1 wote wele sekurlye." 

"Sertes," quod this Schipnian, '♦ a tale 1 can telle, 

Aad therfore herkeneth hyuderward how that 1 will spelie.^^ 



THE SCniPMANNES TALE. 389 



Tell lis a tale, as was thy forward yore ; 

I see wel that ye lerned men in lore 

Can niochel good, by Goddes dlgnitee." 14?90 

The Person him answerd : '* Benedicite ! 
Wliat eiletli the man, so sinfully to swere ? " 

Our hoste answered : "O Jankin, be ye there ? 
Now, good men, quod our hoste, '* kerkneth to me. 
1 sHjell a loller in the wind," quod he. 
'* Abideth for (roddes digne passion, 
For we schul han a predication ; 
This loller here wol prechen us somwhat." 

" Nay by my fathers soule ! that schal he nat." 
Sayde the Schipman, " here schal he nat preche. 
He schal no gospel glosen here ne teche. 14401 

We leven al in the gret God," quod he. 
*' He wolden sowen some difflcultee, 
Or springen cockle in our clene corne. 
And therfore, hoste, I warne thee beforne, 
My joly body schal a tale telle. 
And I schal clinken you so mery a belle, 
That 1 schal waken al this compagnie ; 
But it schal not ben of philosophie, 
Ne of physike, ne termes queinte of lawe ; 14410 

Ther is but litel Latin in my mawe."] 

THE SCHIPMANNES TALE. 

A Marchaunt whilom dwelled at Seint Denys, 
That riche was, for which men hild him wys. 
A wyf he had of excellent beaute, 
And companable, and reverent was sohe ; 
Which is a thing that causeth more despence, 
Than worth is al the cher and reverence 
That men doon hem at festes or at daunces. 
Such salutaciouns and continaunces 

14395. a loller. " This ia in character, as appears from a treatise of tho 
time. Hurl, Cafa/. n. 1666. 'Now in Engelond it is a conuiu protectioun 
ayens presecutiouns— if a man is custoiuultle to sweie nedcles and fals and 
unavised,by the bones, nailes, and sides, and otlier jneiubera uf (Jrist.— And 
to absteyne fro otiies nedeles and unleful,— and repreve sinne by way of 
cliarjte, is mater and cause now, why prelates and some lordes aclaundren 
men, and clepun hem lollards, eretikes,' etc."— Tyrwhitt. 

144U4. Or springen cockle. This alludes to a punning derivation of Loll- 
ard, from the Latin lolium. 

The Schipmannes Tale. In this tale also Chaucer probably gives an Eng- 
ILsh version of an earlier French fabliau. The same storj- probably formed 
the groundwork of tbe lirst story in the Eight U Day of the I)tcameron, which 
differs little from Chauv^er's tale, and was frequently imitated by subsequeut 
coiUeurs. 



390 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Passeth, as doth tbeschadow on a wal ; H430 

But wo is him that paye moot for al. 

The sely housbond algat moste pay, 

He most us clothe in ful good array 

Al for his ougline worschip richely ; 

In which array we daunce jolily. 

And if that he may not, para venture, 

Or elles wil not such dispens endure, 

But thynketh it is wasted and i-lost, 

Than moot another paye for oure cost, 

Or lene us gold, that is perilous. \ii.'6i) 

This worthy marchaunt huld a noble hous, 
For which he hadde alday gret repair 
For his largesce, and for his wyf was fair. 
What wonder is ? but herkneth to my tale. 

Amonges al these gestes gret and smale, 
Ther was a monk, a fair man and a bold, 
I trowe, thritty wynter he was old. 
That ever in oon was drawyng to that place. 
This yonge monk, that was so fair of face, 
Aqueynted was so with the goode man, 14440 

Sith that her firste knowleche bygan, 
That in his ho us as familier was he 
As it possibil is a frend to be. 
And for as mocliil as this goode man 
And eek this monk, of which that I bygan. 
Were bothe tuo i-born in oon village, 
The monk him claymeth, as for cosynage ; 
And he agein him saith nat oons nay, 
But was as glad therof, as foul of day ; 
For to his hert it was a gret plesaunce. 14450 

Thus ben thay knyt with eterne alliaunce, 
And ilk of hem gan other to assure 
Of brotherhed, whil that her lif may dure. 
Fre was daun Johan, and namely of despence 
As in that hous, and ful of diligence 
To do plesaunce, and also gret costage ; 
He nought forgat to geve the leste page 
In al that hous ; but, after her degre. 
He gaf the lord, and siththen his meyne, 
Whan that he com, som maner honest thing ; 144G0 
For which thay were as glad of liis comyng 
As foul in fayn, whan that the sonne upriseth. 
No mor of this as now, for it suffiseth. 

But so bifel, this marchaunt on a day 

14454. namely. I have adopted this reading from the Laiisd Ms !iad 
Tyrwhitt, as giviug apparently the best seuBe. The Harl. Me, reaiia nM')Ujt, 



THE SCllIPMANNES TALE. ^9\ 

Schop him to make redy his array 

Toward the toun of Brug:e8 for to fare, 

To byen ther a porcioun of ware ; 

For which he hath to Paris sent anoon 

A messangrer, and prayed hath dan Johan 

That he schuld come to Seint Denys, and play 1^470 

With him, and with his wyf, a day or tway, 

Er he to Brigges went, in alle wise. 

This nobil monk, of which I yow devyse, 

Hath of his abbot, as him list, hcence, 

(Bycause he was a man of heih prudence, 

And eek an officer out for to ryde, 

To se her graunges and her bernes wyde) ; 

And unto Seint Denys he cometh anoon. 

Who was so welcome as my lord dan Johan, 

Cure deere cosyn, ful of curtesie? 144a0 

With him brought he a jubbe of Malvesie, 

And eek another ful of wyn vernage, 

And volantyn, as ay was his usage ; 

And thus I lete him ete, and drynk, and play, 

This marchaunt and his monk, a day or tway. 

The thridde day this marchaund up he riseth, 
And on his needes sadly him avj^seth ; 
And up into his countour hous goth he. 
To rekyn with him self, as wel may be, 
Of thiike yer, how that it with him stood, 14490 

And how that he dispended had his good, 
And if that he encresced were or noon. 
His bookes and his bagges many oon 
He hath byforn him on his counter bord, 
For nche was his tresor and his hord ; 
For which ful fast his countour dore he schette ; 
And eek he wolde no man schold him lette 
Of his accomptes, for the mene tyme ; 
And thus he sat, til it was passed prime. 

Dan Johan was risen in the morn also, 1450(> 

And in the gardyn walkith to and fro, 
And hath his thinges said ful curteisly. 
Tliis good wyf coui walkyng ful prively 
Into the gardyn, ther he walketh softe, 
And him salueth, as sche hath doon ful ofte. 
A mayde child com in hir compaignie, 

14466. Bruges. Bruges was the grand central mart of European commerce 
in the middle ages, until its decline in consequence of the wars and troubloa 
of the sixteenth century. 

144«3. voldfityn. So the Harl. Ms. The T.ansd. Ms. h.ia volatile, which is 
Ciie reading adopted by Tyr\f hitt, and is probably the correct one 



S92 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Which as hir list sche may governe and gye, 

For yit under the yerde was the mayde. 

** O dere cosyn myn, dan Johan," sche sayde, 

•* What ayleth yow so rathe to arise ? " 14510 

** Nece," quod he, " it aught y-nough suflfise 

Fyve houres for to slepe upon a night ; 

But it were for eny old palled wight, 

As ben these weddid men, that lye and dare, 

As in a forme lith a wery hare, 

Were al for-straught with houndes gret and smale. 

But dere-nece, why be ye so pale ? 

I trowe certis, that oure goode man 

Hath on yow laborid, sith the night bygan, 

That yow were nede to resten hastiliche." 14520 

And with that word he lowgh ful meriliclie. 

And of hisowne thought he was al reed. 

This faire wyf bygan to schake hir heed, 
And sayde thus, " Ye, God wot al," qu(d sche. 
•' Kay, cosyn myn, it stant not so with me. 
For by that God, that gaf me soule and lif. 
In al the reme of Fraunce is ther no wyf 
That lasse lust hath to that sory play ; 
For I may synge alias and waylaway 
That I was born, but to no wight,' quod sche, 14530 
** Dar I not telle how it stont with me. 
Wherfor I think out of this lond to wende. 
Or elles of my self to make an ende. 
So ful am I of drede and eek of care." 

This monk bygan upon this wyf to stare ; 
And sayd, '* Alias ! my nece, God forbede, 
That ye for eny sorw, or eny drede, 
For-do your self ] but telleth me your gTeef 
Paraventure I may in youre mescheef 
Councel or help ; and therfor telleth me 14540 

Al your annoy, for it schal be secre. 
For on my portos here I make an oth. 
That never in my lif, for lief ne loth, 
Ne schal I of no counseil you bywray." 
" The same ageiii," quod sche, " to yow 1 say. 
By God and by this portos wil I swere, 
Though men me wolde al in peces tere, 
Ko schal I never, for to go to helle. 
By wreye word of thing that ye me telle, 
Not for no cosynage, ne alliaunce, 14550 

But verrayly for love and atliaunce." 
Thus ben thay sworn, and herupon i-kist, 
And ilk of hem told other what hem list 



mr. scniPMANNEs tale. 393 



** Cosyn," quod sche, " if that I had a space, 
As I have noon, and namly in this place, 
Then wold I telle a legend of my lyf, 
What 1 have suffred sith I was a wyf 
With myn housbond, though he be your cosyn." 
" Nay," quod this monk, *' by God and seint Martyn I 
ITe is no more cosyn unto me, 14560 

Than is this leef that hongeth on the tre ; 
I cleped him so, by seint Denis of Fraunce, 
To have the more cause of acqueyntaunce 
Of yow, M'hich I have loved specially 
Aboven alle wommen sikerly ; 
This swere I yow on my professioun. 
Tellith youre greef, lest that he come adoun, 
And hasteth yow ; and g'oth your way anoon," 
•' My deere love," quod sche, " o dan Johan, 
Ful leef me were this counseil for to hyde, 14570 

But out it moot, I may no more abyde. 
Myn housbond is to me the worste man, 
That ever was siththe the world bigan ; 
But sith I am a wif, it sit nought me 
To telle no wight of oure privete, 
Niyther a bedde, ne in noon other place ; 
(iod schilde I scholde telle it for his grace. 
A vyf ne schal not say of hir housbonde 
Bu al ho^.our, as I can understonde. 
Save unto yow thus moclie telle I schal ; 145S0 

As help me God, he is nought worth at al, 
In no degre, the valieu of a ftie. 
But yit me greveth most his nigardye. 
And wel ye wot, that wymmen naturelly 
Desiren sixe thinges, as wel as I. 
They wolde that here housbondes scholde be 
Hardy, and wys, and riche, and therto fre, 
And buxom to his wyf, and freisch on bedde. 
But by the Lord that for us alle bledde. 
For his honour my selven to array, 14590 

A sonday next comyng yit most I pay 
An hundred frank, or elles I am lorn. 
Yit were me lever that 1 were unborn, 
Than me were doon a sclaunder or vilenye. I 
And if myn housbond eek might it espie, 
I ner but lost ; and therfor I yow pray 
Lena me tliis summe, or elles mot I dey. 

14566. Tills line ifl omitted in Ms. Hart, and is here givon from Mb. Lane 
dlowne. 

115'j7-14000. These four liuea are also omiLLcd iu liio liuil. J\ia., by an ovi 



394 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Dan Johan, I seye, lene me this hundred frankes ; 

Parde I wil nought faile yow uiy thankes, 

If that yow list to do that I yow pray. 14G00 

For at a certain day I wol yow pay, 

And do to yow what pleasaunce and servise 

That I may do, right as you hst devyse ; 

And but I do, God take on nie vengeaunce, 

As foul as hadde Geneloun of Fraunce ! " 

This gentil monk answard in this manere ; 
"Now trewely, myn owne lady deere, 
1 have on yow so gret pite and reuthe, 
Thut I yow swere, and plighte yow my treuthe, 
Than whan your housbond is to Flaundres faro, 14(510 
I schal deliYer yow out of youre care, 
For I wol bringe yow an hundred frankes." 
And with that word he caught hir by the schankes, 
And hir embraced hard, and kist hir ofte. 
" Goth now your way," quod he, " al stille and softe. 
And let us dyne as sone as ye may. 
For by my cliilindre it is prime of day ; 
Goth now, and beth as trew as I schal be." 
*' Now elles God forbede, sire ! " quod sche. 
And forth sche goth, as joly as a pye, 14G20 

And bad the cookes that thai schold hem hye, 
So that men myghte dyne, and that anoon. 
Up to hir housbond this wif is y-goon. 
And knokketh at his dore boldely. 
*' Qui est la ? " quod he. " Peter 1 it am I," 
Quod sche. " liow longe, sire, wol ye fast? 
How longe tyme wol ye reken and cast 
Your sommes, and your bokes, and your thinges? 
The devel have part of alle such rekenyngts 
Ye have i-nough pardy of Goddes sonde. 14630 

Com doun to day, and let your bagges stonde. 
Ne be ye not ascliamed, that daun Johan 
Schal alday fastyng thus elenge goon ? 
What? let us hiere masse, and gowe dyne." 

*' Wif," quod this man, ** litel canstow divine 
The curious besynesse that we have ; 
For of us chapmen, al so God me save, 
And by that lord that cleped is seint Ive, 

dent error of the scribe, arising from a similar termination of lines 14596 and 
14600. They are here supplied from the Lansd. Ms. 

14605. Geneloun. Geueloun, or Gaiielon, in the old romances, was th© 
person whose treason led to the disastrous battle of Roncesvalles. 

14617. chilirulre. Tliis is the reading of the Harl. and Lansd. Mss. Tyr- 
whJlt has substituted kaleniler. 



TEE SCUIPMANNES TALE. ^95 

Scarsly araonges twelve, two schuln thrive 
Continuelly, lastyng into her age. 14640 

We may wel make cheer and good visage, 
And dryve forth the world, as it may be, 
And kepen our estat in jDrivete, 
Til we be deed, or elles that we play 
A pilgrimage, or goon out of the way. 
^ And therfor have I gret necessite 
Upon this (lueynte world to avyse me. 
For evermor we moste stond in drede 
Of hap and fortuu in our chapmanhode. 
To Flaundres wil I go to morw at day, 14G50 

■ And come agayn as soone as I may ; 
For which, my deere wif, I the byseeke 
As be to every wight buxom and meeke. 
And for to kepe oure good be curious, 
And honestly governe wel our hous. 
Thou hast y-nough, in every maner wise. 
That to a thrifty housbond may suffise. 
The lakketh noon array, ne no vitaile ; 
Of silver in thy purs thou mayst not faile." 14659 

And with that word his countour dore he schitte. 
And doun he goth ; no lenger wold he lette ; 
And hastily a masse was ther sayd. 
And spedily the tables were i-layd, 
And to the dyner faste thay hem spedde, 
And rychely this chapman the monk fedde. 

And after dyner daun Johan sobrely 
This chapman took on part, and prively 
Sayd him thus : " Cosyn, it stondeth so, 
That, wel I se, to Brigges wol ye go ; 
God and seint Austyn spede you and gyde, 146T0 

I pray yow, cosyn, wisly that ye ryde ; 
Groverneth yow also of your diete 
Al temperelly, and namely in this hete. 
Bitwix us tuo nedeth no straunge fare ; 
Far wel, cosyn, God schilde you fro care. 
If eny thing ther be by day or night, 
If it lay in my power and my might, 
That ye wil me comaunde in eny wise, 
It schal be doon, right as ye wol devyse. 
O thing er that ye goon, if it might be, 14680 

14639. twelve, two. This is the readiutf of the Harl. and Lansd. Mss., ex 
cept that tlie latter hab tweyne for tico. Tyrwhitt reads anumges twenty, ten. 

14640. her. The Lansd. Ms. reads our. 

14667. hcnisb(rnd. This Is the reading of the Harl. and I.aiisd Mas. Tyr- 
whitt readw houshoUl. 1 think the reading of the mss. is the best— thou habt 
OBOUgh money, cousistont witli a tluiliy husband. 



396 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



I wolde pray vow for to lene ine 

An hundred frankes for a wyke or tweye, 

For certeyn bestis that I moste beye, 

To store with a place that is oures ; 

(God help me so, I wolde it were yonres !) 

1 schal not faile seurly of my day, 

Nought for a thousand frankes, a myle way. 

But let this thing be secre, I yow pray ; 

For for the bestis this night most I pay. 

And fare now wel, myn owne cosyn deere. 14G90 

Graunt mercy of your cost and of your cheere.'* 

This noble merchaunt gentilly anoon 
Answerd and sayde : *' O cosyn daun Johan, 
Now sikerly this is a smal request ; 
My gold is youres, whanne that yow lest, 
And nought oonly my gold, but my chaiTare ; 
Tak what yow liste, God schilde that ye spare I 
But oon thing is, ye know it wel y-nough 
Of chapmen, that her money is here plough. 
We may creaunce whils we have a name, 14700 

But goldles for to be it is no game. 
Pay it agayn, whan it lith in your ese ; 
After my might ful fayn wold I yow plese. 

This hundred frankes he set forth anoon, 
And prively be took hem to daun Johan ; 
No wight in al this world wist of this loone, 
Savyng this marchaund, and daun Johan alloono, 
Thay drynke, and speke, and rome a while and play, 
Til that dan Johan rydeth to his abbay. 
The morwe cam, and forth this marchaund rideth 
To Flaundres-ward, his prentis wel him gydeth, 14711 
Til that he cam to Brigges merily. 
Now goth this marchaund faste and busily 
Aboute his neede, and bieth, and creaunceth ; 
He neither pleyeth atte dys, ne daunceth ; 
But as a marchaund, schortly for to telle. 
He lad his lyf, and ther 1 let him dwelle. 

The sonday next the marchaund was agoon, 
To Seiut Denys i-come is daun Johan, 
With croune and herd al freisch and newe i-schavo. 
In al the hous ther nas so litel a knave, 14721 

Ne no wight elles, that he nas ful fayn, 
For that uiy lord dan Johan was come agayn. 
And schortly to the poynte for to gon, 
This faire wif acordith with dan Johan, 
That for these hundred frank he schuld al night 
Qave hir in his armes bolt uprigtit j 



THE SCBIPMANNES TALE. 397 



And this acord parformed was in dede. 

In mirth al night a bisy hf thay lede 

Til it was day, than dan Johan went his way, 14730 

And bad the meigne far wel, have good day. 

For noon of hem, ne no wight in the toun, 

Hath of dan Johan noon suspeccioun ; 

And forth he rideth horn to his abbay, 

Or wher him hst, no more of him say. 

This marchaund, whan tliat ended was the faire, 
To Seynt Denys he gan for to repeire, 
And with his wif he maketh fest and cheere, 
And telleth hir that chaffar is so deere, 
That needes most he make a chevisaunce, 14740 

For he was bounde in a reconisaunee, 
To paye twenty thousand scheldes anoon. 
For which this marchaund is to Paris goon, 
To borwe of certeyn frendes that he hadde 
A certein frankes, and some with him he ladde. 
And whan that he was come into the toun, 
For gret chiertee and gret afleccioun 
Unto dan Johan he first goth him to play ; 
Nought for to borwe of him no kyn monay, 
But for to wite and se of his welfare, 14750 

And for to telle him of his chaffare, 
As frendes doon, whan thay ben met in fere. 
Dan Johan him maketh fest and mery cheere ; 
And he him told agayn ful specially. 
How he had bought right wel and graciously 
(Thanked l^e God !) al hole his marchaundise ; 
Save that he most in alle manere wise 
Maken a chevyssauns, as for his best ; 
And than he schulde be in joye and rest. 
Dan Johan answefde, " Certis I am fayn, 14760 

That ye in hele are comen hom agayn ; 
And if that I were riche, as have I blisse, 
Of twenty thousand scheld schuld ye not mysse, 
For ye so kyndely this other day 
Lente me gold ; and as 1 can and may 
I thanke yow, by God and by seint Jame. 
But natheles I took it to oure dame, 
Youre wif at home, the same gold agein 

14742. scheldes. The literal version of the Frencli t^cus, or crowiiB. They 
are said to have received their name from bearing the figure of a tliicld on 
one side. 

14756. hole. I have added this word from the Lansd. Mb. It is omitted in 
the Harl. Me. 

14708. at home. These words also are added from tlie Harl. Ms., as being 
evidently necessary to complete the metre. 



398 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Upon your bench, sche wot it wel certeyn, 
By certein toknes that I can hir telle. 14770 

Now by your leve, 1 may no lenger duelle ; 
Oure abbot wol out of this toun anoon, 
And in his compaignye moot I goon. 
Grete wel oure dame, myn owen nece swete, 
And far wel, dere cosyn, til that we meete." 
This marchaund, which that was bothe war and wys, 
Creaunced hath, and payed eek in Parys 
To certeyn Lombardes redy in hir hond. 
This somme of gold, and took of hem his hond, 
And hom he goth, as mery as a popinjay. 14780 

For wel he knew he stood in such array, 
That needes most he wynne in that viage 
A thousand frankes, above al his costage. 
His wyf ful redy mette him at the gate, 
As sche was wont of old usage algate ; 
And al that night in mirthe thay ben sette, 
For he was riche, and clerly out of dette. 
Whan it was day, this marchaund gan embrace 
His wyf al newe, and kist hir on hir face, 
And up he goth, and maketh it ful tough. 14790 

" No more," quod sche, " by God, ye have y-nough ; " 
And wantounly with him sche lay and playde, 
Till atte laste thus this marchaund sayde : — 
" By God," quod he, " I am a litel wroth 
With vow, my wyf, although it be me loth ; 
And wite ye why ? by God, as that I gesse, 
Ye han i-maad a nianer straungenesse 
Bitwixe me and my cosyn dan Johan. 
Ye schold have warned me, er I had goon, 
That he yow had an hundred frankes payd 14300 

By redy tokne ; and huld him evil appayd ; 
For that I to him spak of chevysaunce, 
(Me seined so as by liis countenaunce) ; 
13ut natbeles, by God of heven king I 
1 thoughte nought to axe him no thing. 
I pray the, wyf, do thou no more so. 
Tel me alway, er that I fro the go, 
• If epy dettour hath in myn absence 
1-payed the, lest in thy necgligence 
I may him axe a thing that he hath payed." 14810 

This wyf was not alfered ne affrayed, 

14778. Lombardes. It is scarcely iieceBsary to inform the reader that the 
Ix)iuhard mcrobaiits were the chief money-dealerB in the thirteenth and 
fourteoiith centuries, after the Jews had been plact^d under a ban, Lombard 
Street in IjOndon seems to have preserved tradilioually ihe peculiar uh^xacter 
given to it by its former iuhabitauts from whoui it was naouad. 



TUK riilORESSES PEOLOGE. (^9^ 



But boldely sche sayde, and tliat anoon : 

" Mary! I diffy that false uionk, dan Johan, 

I kepe not of his tokenes never a del ; 

He took nie a certeyn gold, that wot I wel. 

What ? evel thedom on his nionkes snowte I 

For, Got it wotl I wende withoute doute, 

That he had geve it me, bycause of yow. 

To do therAvith myn honour and my prow, 

For cosynage, and eek for bele cheer 14820 

That he hath had ful ofte tyme heer. 

But synnes that I stonde in this disjoynt, 

I wol answer yow schortly to the poynt. 

Ye han mo slakke dettours than am I ; 

For I wol pay yow wel and redily 

Fro day to day, and if so be I faile, 

I am your wif, score it upon my taile, 

And I sclial paye it as soone as I may. 

For by my trouthe, I have on myn array. 

And nought on wast, bistowed it every del. 14830- 

And for I have bistowed it so wel 

For youre honour, for Goddes sake I say, 

As beth nought wroth, but let us laugh and play ; 

Ye schul my joly body have to wedde ; 

By God, I wol not pay yow but on bedde ; 

Forgeve it me, myn owne spouse deere ; 

Turne hidor-ward and make better cheere." 

This marchaund saugli noon other remedy ; 
And for to chide, it nas but foly, 

Sith that the thing may not amendid be. ' JMIO 

" Now, wif," he sayde, ** and I forgive it the ; 
And by thi lif, ne be no more so large ; 
Keep better my good, this give 1 the in charge/' 
Thus endeth now my tale, and God us sonde 
I^lyng y-nough, unto our lyves ende I " 

THE PRIORESSES PROLOGE. 

** Wel sayd, by corpus boones ! " quod oure host, 
** Now longe mot thou sayle by the cost, 
Sir gentil maister, gentil mariner. 
God give the monk a thousand last quade yer. 
Haha 1 felaws, be war for such a jape. 14850 

The monk put in the mannes hood an ape, 
And in his wyves eek, by seint Austyn. 
Draweth no nionkes more unto your in. 
But now pas over, aiid let us loke aboute, 
Who schal now telle first of ai tliis route 



40U THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Another tale ; " and with that word he sayde, 

As curteisly as it had ben a mayde, 

** My lady Prioresse, by your leva, 

So that I wist I scholde yow not greve, 

I wolde deme, that ye telle scholde 14 '^<0 

A tale next, if so were that ye wolde. 

Now wol ye vouche sauf, my lady deere ? " 

"Gladly," quod sche, and sayd in this inanere. 

THE PRIORESSES TALE. 

O Lord, oure Lord, thy name how merveylous 
Is in this large world i-sprad 1 (quod sche) 
For nought oonly thy laude precious 
Parformed is by men of heih degre, 
But by mouthes of children thy bounte 
Parformed is; on oure brest soukynge 
Som tyme schewe thay thin heriynge. 14870 

Wherfore in laude, as I best can or may, 
Of the and of thy white lily Hour, 
Which that the bar, and is a mayde alway. 
To telle a story I wil do my labour ; 
Nought that I may encresce youre honour. 
For sche hir silf is honour and roote 
Of bounte, next hir sone, and soules boote. 

O moodir mayde, o mayde mooder fre, 
O bussh unbrent, brennyng in Moises sight. 
That ravysshedest doun fro the deite, 1 4880 

Thurgh thin humblesse, the gost that in the alight ; 
Of vvhos vertu, he in thin herte pight, 
Concey ved was the fadres sapience ; 
Help me to telle it in thy reverence. 

Lady, thi bounte, and thy magnificence, » 

Thy virtu and thi gret humilite, 
Ther may no tonge expres in no science ; 
For som tyme, lady, er men pray to the, 
Thow gost biforn of thy benignite, 

And getist us the light, thurgh thy prayere, 14890 

To gyden us the way to thy sone so deere. 

My connyng is so weyk, o blisful queene, 
For to declare thy grete worthinesse, 
That I may not tliis in my wyt susteene ; 

T/ie Prioresses Tale. The subject of thie HUwf wiv:? a -very popular legend 
iu the middle ages, told in a variety of toi lub, and located in as many dillereut 
places, but tending and perhaps intended to keep up a strong prejiidicei 
against the Jews. It is not necessary to enumerate these dilTerent stories. 

14864. O Lord, oure Lord. This lu a traiiBlatiou oi the first worUboi Uie 
eighth Psalm» Domitie, Dommus noster, etc 



TJiE PRIOIiESSES TALE 401 



But as a child of twelf month old or lesse, 
That can unnethes eny word expresse, 
Right so fare I, and therfor I you pray, 
Gydeth my song, that I schal of yow say. 

Ther was in Acy, in a greet citee, 
Amonges Cristen folk a Jewerye, 14900 

Susteyned by a lord of that contre, 
For foul usure, and lucre of felonye, 
Hateful to Crist, and to his compaignye ; 
And thurgh the strete men might ride and wend , 
For it. was fre, and open at everich ende. 

A litel scole of Cristen folk ther stood 
Doun at the forther ende, in which ther were 
Children an hcep y-comen of Cristen blood, 
That lered in that scole yer by yere 
Such maner doctrine as men used there ; 14910 

This is to say, to synge and to rede. 
As smale childer doon in her childhede. 

Among these children was a widow sone, 
A litel clergeoun, that seve yer was of age, 
That day by day to scole was his wone. 
And eek also, wherso he saugh thymage 
Of Cristes moder, had he in usage. 
As him was taught, to knele adoun, and say 
His Ave Maria, as he goth by the way. 

Thus hath this widow her litel child i-taught 14S2GI 
Oure blisful lady, Cristes moder deere. 
To worschip ay, and he forgat it nought ; 
For cely child wil alway soone leere. 
But ay whan I remembre of this matiere, 
Seint Nicholas stont ever in my presence, 
For he so yong to Crist dede reverence. 

This litel child his litel book lernynge, 
As he sat in the scole in his primere, 
He alma redemptoris herde synge, 
As children lerned her antiphonere ; 14930 

And as he durst, he drough him ner and neere, 
And herkned ever the wordes and the note, 
Til he the firste vers couth e al by rote. 

Nought wist he what this Latyn was to say, 

14898. Gydeth. The ITarl. Ms. has endeth. 

14899. Acy. The Laneil. Ms. reads Ace. Tyrwhitt -r4sje, i. e. Asia. 

14902. felonye. The Laneii. Ms. aud Tyrwhitt have vilanye. These two 
ivords aie not uiifrequeutly interchanged in the mss. 

14925. I'Scivt Nichoids. We have an amusing account of the very early 
piety of this saint in liis lesson, Brev. Roman, vi. Decenib. " Cujus viri sanc- 
ti'^as, quanta f utura esset, jani ab incunabulis apparuit. Nam infans, cura 
reli.iuasdies lac nutricis frequens sugerefe, quarta et sexta feria (ou Wediioe- 
dftjs and Fridays) sumel dunlaxat, idque vesperi. sugebat." 



402 



THE CANTERBURY TALES, 



For he so yong and tender was of age ; 

But on a day his felaw gan he pray 

To expoune him the song in his langage, 

Or telle him what this song was in usage ; 

This prayd he him to construe and declare, 

Fyil often tyme upon his knees bare. 14940 

His felaw, which that elder was than he, 
Answerd him thus : " This song, I have herdseye. 
Was maked of our blisful lady fre. 
Hire to saluen, and eek hire to preye 
To ben our help and socour whan we deye- 
I can no more expoune in this matere ; 
I lerne song, I can no more gramer." 

" And is this song i-maad in reverence 
Of Cristes moder ? " sayde this innocent ; 
'■'■ Now certes I wol do my dihgence 14950 

To conne it al, er Cristemasse be went, 
Though that I for my primer schal be schent. 
And schal be betyn thries in an hour, 
I wol it conne, oure lady to honoure." 

His felaw taught him horn- ward prively 
From day to day, til he couthe it by rote, 
And than he song it wel and boldely ; 
Twyes on the day it passed thurgh his throte, 
From word to word according with the note, 
To scole-ward and hom-ward whan he went ; 14961 
On Cristes moder was set al his entent. 

As 1 have sayd, thurghout the Jewrye 
This litel child as he cam to and fro, 
Ful merily than wold he synge and crie, 
O alma redemptoris, evermo ; 
The swetnes hath his herte persed so 
Of Cristes moder, that to hir to pray 
He can not stynt of syngyng by the way. 

Oure firste foo, the serpent Sathanas, 
Tiiat hath in Jewes hert his waispis nest, 14970 

Upswal and sayde : ** O Ebreik peple, alias 1 
Is this a thing to yow that is honest. 
That such a boy schal walken as him lest 
In youre despyt, and synge of such sentence, 
Which is agens your lawes reverence ? " 

Fro thennesforth the Jewes han conspired 
This innocent out of this world to enchace ; 
An homicide therto han thay hired, 
That in an aley had a prive place ; 



MW7. 
mere. 



no more gramer. The Lanad. Ms. and Tyrwhitt read but stnal gramf 



THE PRIORESSES TALE. 



403 



And as the childe gan forthby to pace, 14980 

This false. Jewe him bent, and huld ful faste, 
And kut his throte, and in a put him caste, 

I say in a wardrobe thay him threw, 
Wher as the Jewes purgen her entraile. 
O cursed folk, o Ilerodes al newe. 
What may your evyl entente you availe ? 
Morthor wol out, certeyn it wil nought faile, 
And namly ther thonour of God schuld sprede ; 
The blood out crieth on your cursed dede. 

*' O martir sondit to virginite, 14990 

Now maystow synge, folwyng ever in oon 
The white lomb celestial," quod sche, 
" Of which the grete evaungelist seint Johan 
In Pathmos wroot, which seith that thay that goon 
Bifore the lamb, and synge a song al newe. 
That never fleischly wommen thay ne knewe." 

This pore widowe wayteth al this night, 
After this'litel child, but he cometh nought ; 
For which as soone as it was dayes light. 
With face pale, in drede and busy thought, 15000 

Sche hath at scole and elles wher him sought, 
Til fynally sche gan of hem aspye, 
That he was last seyn in the Jewerie. 

With moodres pite in hir brest enclosed, 
Sche goth, as sche were half out of hir mynde. 
To every place, wher sche hath supposed 
By liklihede hir child for to fynde ; 
And ever on Cristes mooder meke and kynde 
Sche cried, and atte laste thus sche wrought. 
Among the cursed Jewes sche him sought. 15010 

Sche freyned, and sche prayed pitousJy 
To every jew that dwelled in that place. 
To telle hir, if hir child wente ther by ; 
Thay sayden nay ; but Jhesu of his grace 
Gaf in hir thought, withinne a litel space. 
That in that place after hir sone sche cryde, 
Wher as he was cast in a put bysyde. 

O grete God, that parformedist thin laude 
By mouth of innocentz, lo, here thy might ' 
This gemme of chasiite, this eiueraude, 15020 

And eek of martirdom tho ruby bright, 
Ther he with throte y-corve lay upright, 



14982. and in a put him caste. Tliis is the reading of the I>an8d. Ms. Tho 
Harl. Ms. reads and threw him in atte laste. 

15022. y-corve. I have eubsfituted this reading (from the Lausd. Ms.J for 
irkut, the readiuiz of the Hurl. Me. 



404 TBE CANTERBURY TALES. 



He Alma redemptoris gan to synge 

So lowde, that al the place bigan to rynge. 

The Cristen folk, that thurgh the strete wen 
In conien, for to wonder upon this thing ; 
And hastily for the provost thay sent. 
He came anoon, without tarying, 
And heriede Crist, that is of heven king, 
And eek his moder, honour of manl^ynde, 15030 

And after that the Jewes let he bynde. 

This child with pitous lamentacioun 
Up taken was, syngyng his song alway ; 
And with honour of gret procession n, 
Thay caried him unto the next abbay. 
His moder swownyng by the beere lay ; 
Unnethe might the poeple that was there 
This newe Rachel bringe fro the beere. 

With torment and with schamful deth echon 
This provost doth these Jewes for to sterve, 15040 

That of this moerder wist, and that anoon ; 
He wolde no such cursednesse observe ; 
Evel schal have, that evyl wol deserve. 
Therfore with wilde hors he dede hem drawe, 
And after that he heng hem by the lawe. 

Upon his beere ay lith the innocent 
Biforn the chief auter whiles the masse last ; 
And after that, thabbot with his covent 
Han sped hem for to burie him ful fast ; 
And whan thay halywater on him cast, 15050 

Yet spak this child, whan spreynde was the water, 
And song, alma redemptoris ?nater. 

This abbot, wliich that was an holy man. 
As monkes ben, or elles oughte be, 
This yonge child to conjure he bigan. 
And sayd : " O deere child, I halse the, 
In vertu of the holy Trinite, 
Tel me what is thy cause for to synge, 
Sith that thy throte is kit at my semynge." 

'* My throte in kit unto my nekke-boon," 15060 

Sayde this child, ** and was by the way of kynde 
I schulde han ben deed long tyme agoon ; 
But Jhesu Crist, as ye in bookes fynde, 
Wol that his glorie laste and be in mynde ; 
And for the worschip of his moder deere, 
Yet may I synge O alma lowde and cleere. 

'* This welle of mercy, Cristes moder swe'tfs 
I loved alway, as after my connynge ; 
And whan that I my lyf schulde leete. 



I 



PBOLOGE TO SIRE THOPAS. 405 

To me sche cam, and bad me for to synge 15070 

This antyiu verraily in my deyinge, 

As ye have herd, and, whan that I had songe, 

Me thought sche layde a grayn under my tonge, 

" Wherfor I synge, and synge moot certeyne 
In honour of that bhsful mayden fre, 
Til fro my tonge taken is the greyne. 
And after that thus saide sche to me : 
' My litil child, now wol I fecche the, 
Whan that the grayn is fro thi tonge i-take ; 
Be nought agast, I wil the nought forsake.' " 15080 

This holy monk, this abbot him mene I, 
His tonge out caught, and took awey the greyn ; 
And he gaf up the gost ful softely. 
And whan the abbot hath this wonder seyn. 
His salte teres striken doun as reyn ; 
And gruf he fel adoun unto the grounde, 
And stille he lay, as he had ben y-bounde. 

The covent eek lay on the pavynnent 
Wepyng and herying Cristes moder deere. 
And after that thay rise, and forth thay went, 15090 
And took away this martir fro his beere, 
And in a tombe of marble stoones cleer© 
Enclosed thay this litil body sweete ; 
Ther he is now, God lene us for to meete ! 

O yonge Hughe of Lyncoln, slayn also 
With cursed Jewes (as it is notable. 
For it nys but a litil while ago), 
Pray eek for us, we synful folk unstable, 
That of his mercy God so merciable 
On us his grete mercy multiplie, 15100 

For reverence of his modir Marie. 

PROLOGE TO SIRE THOPAS. 

Whan sayd was this miracle, every man 
As sober was, that wonder was to se. 
Til that oure host to jape he bigan. 
And than at erst he loked upon me, 
And saydo thus : " What man art thou ? " quod he. 
" Thou lokest as thou woldest fynde an hare, 
For ever upon the ground I se the stare, 

15096. Hughe of Lyncoln. The story of Hugh of Lincoln, which was mado 
the subject of a variety of ballads, etc., is placed by the hiptorians in the year 
1255. The ballads, in English and French, were collected together by M. 
Michael, and published at Paris in a small volume in 1834. 

15104. he biyan. I have ventured to add the personal pronoun, which id 
flranting iix the Harl. and Lansd. Msa., from Tyrwhitt. 



406 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



*' Appioche ner, and loke merily. 
Now ware you, sires, and let this man have space. 
He in the wa^t is scliape as Avell as I ; 15111 

This wer a popet m an arm to embrace 
For any womman, smal and fair of face. 
He semeth elvisch by his countenaunce, 
For unto no wight doth he dahaunce. 

'* Say now som what, sins other folk han said ; 
Telle us a tale and that of mirth anoon." 
" Host," quod I, " ne beth nought evel apayd. 
For other tale certes can I noon, 

But of a rym I lerned yore agoon." 15120 

*' Ye, that is good," quod he, '* now schul we heere 
Som deynte thing, me thinketh by thy cheere." 

THE TALE OF SIR THOPAS. 

Lesteneth, lordyngs, in good entent, 
And I wol telle verrayment 

Of myrthe and solas, 
Al of a knyght was fair and gent 
In batail and in tornament, 

His name was Sir Thopas. 
I-bore he was in fer contre. 
In Flaundres, al byyonde the se, 15130 

At Poperyng in the place ; 
His fader was a man ful fre, 
And lord he was of that contre ; 

As it was Goddes grace. 
Sir Thopas wax a doughty swayn ; 
Whyt was his face as payndemayn, 

His lippes reed as rose ; 
His rode is lik scarlet en grayn. 
And I yow telle in good certayn 

He had a semly nose. 15140 

His heer, his berd, was lik safroun, 

The Tale of Sir Thopas. The introduction of this story by Chaucer is 
elearly intended as a satire on the dull metrical romances, then so popular, 
but of which Chaucer fully saw the absurdity. It is in fact a protest against 
the literary taste of his day. It is made up of phrases from the common met- 
rical romances, if it be not a fragment of a romance dragged in by Chaucer. 
It has been stated that such a romance existed under the title of The gumt 
Olyphant and chylde Thopas ; but literary historians have not yet been abla 
to hnd any traces of such a romance. This notion "is, however, somewhat 
favored by the circumstance that all the MSS. do not end with the same line, 
the Lansd. Ms. concluding with 1. 15322, and the Harl. wanting the last frag- 
ment of a line, as though different scribes omitted some, or added as from a 
poem wliich they had in memory. .^. . , e 

15131. Poperyng. Poppering or Poppeling was a parish in the marches of 
Calais. 



THE TALE OF SIE TnOPAS. 



407 



That to his girdil raiight adoun ; 

His schoon of cordewane ; 
Of Brigges were his hosen broun ; 
His robe was of sicladoun, 

That coste many a jane. 
He couthe hunt at wilde deer, 
And ride on haukyng for ryver 

With gray goshauk on honde ; 
Therto he was a good archeer. 15150 

Of wrastelyng noon was his peer, 

Ther eny rani schal stonde. 
Fill many mayde bright in hour 
Thay mourne for him, par amour, 

Whan him wer bet to slepe ; 
But he was chast and no lecchour, 
And sweet as is the brembre flour 

That beretli the reede heepe. 
And so it fel upon a day. 

For soth as I yow telle may, 15160 

- Sir Thopas wold out ryde ; 
He worth upon his steede gray, 
And in his hond a launcegay, 

A long sword by his syde. 
He priketh thurgh a fair forest, 
Therin is many a wilde best. 

Ye, bothe buk and hare ; 
And as he priked north and est, 
I tei it yow, hym had almest 

Bityd a sory care. 15170 

Ther springen herbes greet and smale, 
The licorys and the cetewale. 

And many a clow gilofre, 
And notemuge to put in ale, 
Whethir it be moist or stale, 

Or for to lay in cofre. 
The briddes synge, it is no nay, 
The sperhauk and the popinjay, 

15146. jane. A coin of Genoa (Janua), some of which, apparently of in- 
ferior value, are called in the English statutes galU'ij h(ilf])enc.e. The sifjhu 
ton, or siclaton, was a rich cloth or silk brought from the East, and is there- 
fore appropriately mentioned as bought with Genoese coin. 

15148. on haukyiuj for ryver. The riverside is commonly described in the 
romances as the scene of hawking. Thus in the Squier of Low Degree,— 

Homward thus schal ye rydo 
On haukyng by tlie ryvers syde, 
'gVith goshauke and with gontil fawcou 
Wiih buglehoru and merlyon. 

See alsv before, 1. 6466. 

16152. eny ram. See before, line 550, and the Tale of Gamelyn, 1. 172. 



408 TJIE CANTERBURY TALES. 



That joye it was to heere, 
The throstilcok inaad eek his lay, 15180 

The woode dowve upon the spray 

Sche song fill lowde and cleero. 
Sir Thopas fel in love-longing, 
Whan that he herde the briddes synge, 

And priked as he were wood ; 
His faire steede in his prikynge 
So swette, that men might him wrynge, 

His sydes were al blood. 
Sir Thopas eek so wery was 
For priking on the softe gras, 1519C 

So feers was his corrage, 
That doun he layd him in that place 
To make his steede som solace, 

And gaf him good forage. 
" O, seinte Mary, benedicite, 
What eylith this love at me 

To bynde me so sore ? 
Me dremed al this night, parde, 
An elf queen schal my lemman be, 

And slepe under my gore. 15200 

An elf queen wol I have i-wis, 
For in this world no womman is 

Worthy to be my make 
In toune ; 
Alle othir wommen I forsake, 
And to an elf queen I me take 

By dale and eek by doune." 
livto his sadil he clomb anoon, 
And priked over style and stoon 

An elf queen for to spye ; 15210 

Til he so longe hath ryden and goon. 
That he fond in a prive woon 

The contre of a fairye, 

So wylde j 



15182. Sche song. The Harl. Ms. reads so for scJi^. Tyrwhitt gives he. 
The reading of the text is taken from the Lansd. Ms. 

15214. so wylde. This and the following lines, with the whole of this 
etanza, are given us they stand in the Harl. and l.ansd. Mss., which 1 believe 
to be correct. 1 do not think, with Tyrwhitt, that there is anything neces- 
sarily wanting: he closes one stanza with line 15213. and giv»^s as anothei 
stanza (the supplementary lines have been taken from a late aud bad Lis,),— 

Wherin he songhte nortli and south, 
And oft he spied with his mouth 

In many a forest wilde. 
Eor in that contree n'as ther non, 
That to him dorst ride or goii, 

Neither wif uc childe. 



THE TALE OF Sin THOPAS. 409 



For in that centre was ther noon. 
That to him dorste ride or goon, 

Neither wif ne childe. 
Til ther cam a greet geaunt, 
11 is name was sir Olifaunt, 

A perilous man of dede ; 15220 

He swar, " Child, by Termagaunt, 
For if thou prike out of myn haunt, 

Anoon I slee thy stede. 

With mace. 
Heer is the queen of fayerie, 
With harp, and lute, and symphonye, 

Dwellyng in this place." 
The child sayd '* Al so mote I the, 
To morwe wil I meete with the, 

Whan I have myn armure. 15230 

And yit I hope, i3ar ma fay, 
That thou schalt with this launcegay 

Abyen it ful sore ; 

Thy ma we 
Sclial I persyn, if that I may, 
Er it be fully prime of day, 

For heer schalt thou be slawe." 
Sir Thopas drough on bak ful fast ; 
This geaunt at him stoones cast 

Out of a fell staf slynge ; 15240 

But faire eschapeth child Thopas, 
And al it was thurgh Goddis gras, 

And thurgh his faire berynge. 
Yet lesteneth, lordynges, to my tale, 
Merier than the nightyngale 

I wol yow roune, 
How sir Thopas with sides smale, 
Piikynge over hul and dale, 

]s come ageyn to toune. 
His mery men comaunded he, 152-50 

To make him bothe game and gle. 

For needes most he fight 

15219. sir Olifaunt. Olifaunt means an elephant, and is not an inappro- 
priate name for a pagan giant. 

15221. '/'ermayaunt. Termagant or Tervagant is the name of one of the 
fayoiiie gods of the Saracens and pagans, in the poi)iilar literature of the 
middle ages. From the way in wliich he was made to bluster and rant, arose 
our modern use of the word ttnmujant. 

15222. For. The i^ausd. Ma. reads But, which is perhaps belter. 

15223. thy stede. This reading 4s adopted from the Lansd. Ms., as being 
evidently the correct one. The Harl. Ms. reads as one line, Anoon I slee i/i& 
with mace. 

16243. faire. I have added this word from the Lansd. Ms. 



410 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



With a geaunt with heedes thre, 
For paramours and jolite 

Of oon that schon ful bright. 
" Do come," he sayde, " my mynstrales 
And gestours for to telle tales 

Anoon in myn armynge, 
Of romaunces that ben reales, 
Of popes and of cardinales, 15260 

And eekof love-likynge." 
Thay fet him first the swete wyn, 
And made him eek in a maselyn 

A real spicerye, 

15257. gestours for to telle tales. " The proper business of a gestmcr was to 
recite tales, or gestes ; which was only one of the branches of the minstrera 

f)rofession. Minstrels and gestours are mentioned together in the following 
ines, from William of Nassmgton's translation of a religious treatise by John 
of Waldby. Ms. Eeg. 17 C. vui. p. 2. 

I warne you furst at the begynninge, 

That I will make no vain carpinge 

Of dedes of arrays ne of amours, 

As dus mynstrelles and jestours, 

That makys carpinge in many a place 

Of Octnviane and Isembrase, 

And of many other jestes. 

And namely whan they come to festes ; 

Ne of the life of Bevys of Hampton, 

That was a knight of gret renoun, 

Ne of Sir Oye of JFarwyke, 

Al if it might sum men lyke— 
I cite these lines to shew the species of tales related by the ancient gestours, 
and how much they differed from what we now call ieiiteB."—Tyrwhitt. 

15259. romaimces . . . reales. ** So in the rom. of Vwain and Gawain. Ms. 
Oott. Galb. B. ix. 

He fund a knight under a tre ; 

Upon a cloth of gold he lay ; 

Byfor him sat a ful fayr may : 

A lady sat with tham in fere ; 

The maiden red^ that thai might here, 

A real romance in that place.— 

The original of this title, which is an uncommon one, I take to be this. Wlion 
the French romances found their way into Italy (not long before the year 
1800, Crescimb. t. i. p. 33*)), some Italian undertook to collect together all those 
relating to Charlemagne and his family, and to form them into a regular body 
of history. The six first books of this work come down to the death of Pepin. 
They begin thus : Qui se comenza la hysteria el Real di Franza comenzando 
a (Constantino imperatore secondo molte lezende che io ho attrovate e racolte 
insieme. Edit. Mutince, 1491, fol. It was reprinted in 1537 under this title, 
* I real i di Franza, nel quale si contiene la generazione di tutti i lie, Duchi, 
Principi e Baroni di Franza, e delli Paladini, coUe Battaglie da loro fatte, 
etc' Quadrio, t. vi. p. 630. Salviati had seen a Jis. of this work written 
about 1350 {Crescimb. t. i. p. 330), and I do nut brtlieve that any mention of a 
real, or royal, romance is to be found, in French or English, prior to that 
da.t6."—Tyrwhitt. 

152C1. love-likynge. The Lansd, Ms. reads, with whitt, love-Umgyng, 

15263. Tyrwhitt reads this and the next line,— 
And mede eke in a maselin, 
And real spice rio. 
But I prefer much the reading of Far!. Ms., as mead wab not a very romac* 
tic liquor to be served to a knight adventurous. 



THE TALE OF SIR TUOPAS. iH 



Of gyngebred that was so fyn, 
And licorys, and eek corny n, 

With sugre that is trye. 
He dede next his white leere 
Of cloth of lake whyt and cleere 

A brech and eek a schert ; 
And next his schert an aketoiin, 
And over that an haberjoun, 

For persying of his hert ; 15270 

And over that a fyn hauberk, 
Was al i- wrought of Jewes weik, 

Ful strong it was of plate ; 
And over that his cote-armour, 
As whyt as is a lily flour.. 

In which he wold debate. 
His scheld was al of gold so red. 
And therinne was a bores heed, 

A charbocle by his syde ; 
And ther he swor on ale and bred 15280 

How that the geaunt schal be deed, 

Bytyde what betyde. 
His jambeux were of quirboily, 
His swerdes schethe of yvory, 

His helm of latoun bright. 
His sadel was of rowel boon. 
His bridel as the sonne schon^ 

Or as the moone light. 
His spere was of fine cipres, 
That bodeth werre, and no thing pees, 15290 

The heed ful scharp i-grounde. 
His steede was al dappul gray. 
It goth an ambel in the way 

Ful softely and rounde 

In londe. 
Lo, lordes, heer is a fyt ; 
If ye wil eny more of it, 

To telle it wol I fonde. 

15272. Jexces werlc. 1 have not met with any passage in medieval writers 
explaining the nature of this Jewes wert, but 1 am not quite prepared to 
think with Tyrwhitt that a J(M' means here a magician. 

15286. rowel boon. This material, whatever it may be, ic mentioned else- 
where as that of which rich saddles were made ; as in the early ballad or 
Thomas and the Elfquttn, speaking of the latter,— 
Hir sadille was of reuylle. bone, 

Semely was that sight to se. 
Stilly sctte with precious stone, 
Compaste aboute with crapot6. 



15289. fine. I have added this word from the Laned. Ms. 
15296. a /yf. This was a CO " '' ' ' . /. _ .i. . 

diviBioiis of a metrical romance' 



15296. a fyt. This was a connuon English term for the ainerent parte <W 
of a n 



ii2 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



[fit II.] 

Now hold your mouth for charite, 

Bothe knight and lady fre, 15300 

And herkneth to my speile ; 
Of batall and of chivalry, 
Of ladys love and drewery, 

Anoon I wol yow telle. 
Men speken of romauns of pris, 
Of Horn child, and of Ypotis, 

Of Bevys, and sir Gy, 
Of sir Li beaux, and Pieyndamour, 
But sir Thopas bereth the flour 

Of real chivalry. 15310 

Bis goode steede he bistrood, 
And forth upon his way he glood, 

As spark out of the bronde ; 
Upon his cre!?t he bar a tour, 
And tlierin stiked a lily flour, 

God schilde his corps fro schonde. 
And for he was a knyght auntrous, 
He nolde slepen in noon hous, 

But hggen in his hood. 
His brighte helm was his wonger, 15320 

And by liim baytith his destrer 

Of herbes fyne and goode. 
Him self drank water of the welle, 
As dede the knight sir Percivelle 

So worthy under wede, 
[Til on a day] 

15305. romauns of pris. Nearly all the romances here enumerated are ex- 
tant. The romance of Horn is preserved in Anglo-lS'orman and in English ; 
the latter version is printed in Ritson's Metrical liomances. Ypotis is found 
in a Cottonian Ms. (Calig. A. 11.) and in the Vernon ]\Is. at Oxford. Bevis of 
Hampton and Guy of Warwick are too well known to need any explanation. 
Sir Libeaiix, or Libeaus Desconus (the fair unknown), is printed also in Kit- 
son's Metrical Romances. 

15324. sir Percivelle. I have adopted Tyrwhitt's reading instead of that of 
the Ilarl. Ms., of Pertinelle, because 1 remember no romance or tale of a 
Ii7ugkt of Perti7ie'lle, a.nd the romance of /'(;?-ciraHs well known. I'yrwhiit 
observes, " The romance of Perceval le Galois, or de Galis, was composed in 
octosyllable French verse by Chrestien de Troves, one of the oldest and best 
French romancers, before tho year 1191. Fauchet, 1. ii. c. x. It consisted of 
above sixty thousand verses {Bill, des Rom. t. ii. p. 250), so that it would be 
some trouble to find the fact which is, probably, here alluded to. The r<^v 
mance, under the same title, in French prose, printed at Paris, 1530, fol. can 
only be an abridgement, I suppose, of the original poem." 

15325. So worthy under wtde. "This phrase occurs repeatedly in tho 
romance of L'mare 

fol. 70. b. Than sayde that worthy unther wede. 
74. b. The childe was toortky unther wede. 
And sate upon a uobyl stede. 
See also fol. 71, b. 73, B,."~Tyrwhitt 

15326. Til on a day. These words are not iu the Harl. Ms. 



PnOLOGE TO MELIBEUS. 413 



PROLOGE TO MELIBEUS. 

" No raor of this, for Goddes dignite I " 
Quod our hoste, ** for thou makest me 
So wery of thy verrey lewednesse, 

That al so wisly God my soule blesse, 15330 

Myn eeres aken for thy drasty speche. 
Now such a rym the devel I byteche 1 
This may wel be rym dogerel," quoth he. 
" Why so," quod I, " why wilt thou lette me 
More of my tale than another man, 
Syn that it is the beste rym that I can ? " 
" By God ! " quod he, ** for pleinly at o word, 
Thy drasty rymyng is not worth a tord ; 
Thou dost nought elles but despendist tyine. 
Sir, at o word, thou schalt no lenger ryme 15340 

Let se wher thou canst tellen ought in gest, 
Or telle in prose som what atte lest. 
In which ther be som merthe or doctrine." 
" Gladly." quod I, " by Goddes swete pyne, 
I wol yow telle a litel thing in prose, 
That oughte like yow, as I suppose. 
Or elles certes ye be to daungerous. 
It is a moral tale vertuous, 
Al be it told som tyme in sondry wise 
Of sondry folk, as I schal yow devyse. 15350 

As thus, ye woot that every evaungelist, 
That i^elleth us the peyne of Jhesu Crist, 
Ne saith not alle thing as liis felawes doth ^ 
But natheles here sentence is al soth, 
And alle accorden as in here sentence, 
Al be ther in her tellyng difference, 
i'or some of hem sayn more, and some lesse, 
Whan thay his pitous passioun expresse ; 
I mene of Mark and Matliew, Luk and Johan, 
But douteles her sentence is al oon. 15360 

Therfor, lordynges alle, I yow biseche, 
If yow think that I varye as in my speche, 
As thus, though that I telle som what mora 
Of proverbes, than I have herd bifore 
Comprehended in this litel tretys here, 
To euforcen with theiTect of my matiore, 
And though I not the same wordes say 
As ye have herd, yit to yow alle I pray, 
153(>4. / havt.. TLe Lautkl. Ms. aud Tyrwhitt road ya. 



414 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Blameth me nought, for, in my sentence, 

Schul ye no wher fynde difference 15370 

For the sentence of this tretys hte, 

After the which this litil tale I write. 

And therfor herkeneth what I schal say, 

And let me tellen al my tale, I pray." 

THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 

A YONG man called Melibeus, mighty and riche, bygat 
upon his wif, that called was Prudens, a doughter which 
that called was Sophie.^ Upon a day byfel, that for his 
desport he is went into the feldes him to play. His wif and 
his doughter eek hath he laft within his hous, of which the 
dores were fast i-schitte. Thre-^ of his olde foos han it espyed, 
and setten laddres to the walles of his hous, and by the 
wyndowes ben entred, and betyn his wyf, and woundid his 
doughter with fyve mortal woundes, in fyve sondry places, 
that is to sayn, in here feet, in here hondes, in here eeres, 
in here nose, and in here mouth ; and lafte her for deed, 
and went away. 

Whan Melibeus retourned was into his hous, and seigh 
al this meschief, he, lik a man mad, rendyng his clothes, 
gan wepe and crie. Prudens his wyf, as ferforth as sche 
dorste, bysought him of his wepyng to stynte. But not 
fortlii he gan to crie ever lenger the more. 

This noble wyf Prudence remembred hire upon the 
sentens of Ovide,^ in his book that cleped is the Remedy of 
Love, wher as he seith : He is a fool that distourbeth the 
moder to wepe in the deth of hir childe, til sche have i-wept 
hir fille, as for a certeyn tyme ; and than schal man doon 
his diligence as with amyable wordes hire to recom forte 
and praye hire of hire wepyng to stinte. For which resoun 
this noble wif Prudens suffred hir housbonde for to wepe 
and crie, as for a. c5rteyn space ; and whan sche seigh hir 
tyme, sche sayd him in this wise: " Alias I Hiy lord," 

'i'he Tale of Melibeus. This iS a literal translation from a French story, 
of wliieli there are two copies in the British Museum, Ms. Reg. 19, 0. vii. and 
Ms. Keg. 19, C. xi., both of the fifteenth century. The former, as apparently 
the best copy, is quoted in the following notes. (Since these notes were first 
•written, the French text of Melibeus has been printed in le Alenagier de Paris, 
published by the Societe des Bibliophiles Fran9oi8.) 

1 Sophie. The name of the daughter is omitted in both the French Mss. 

2 7'hre. The Lansd. Ms, and l^rwhitt read foare. The reading of both 
the French MS.s., however, is trois, which is in. all probability correct. Three 
was a favorite number in Lhfi medieval tales and apologues. 

3 the sentens of Ovidc The allusion is to the kerned. Am. 1. 125,— 

Quia matrem, nisi matris inops, in funere uati 
Flere vctet? &c. 



THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 415 

quod sche, "■ why make ye youre self for to be lik a fool ? 
Porsothe it apperteyneth not to a wys man, to make such 
sorwe. Youre doughter, with the grace of God, schal 
warisclit be and eschape. And al were it so that sche right 
now were deed, ye ne oughte nought as for hir deth youre 
silf destroye. Senec saith, The wise man schal not take to 
gret discomfort for the deth of his children, but certes he 
schulde suffren it in pacience, as wel as he abydoth the 
deth of his owne persone." 

This Melibeus answerde anoon and sayde : "What 
man," quod he, " schuld of his wepynge stynte, that hath 
so gret a cause for to wepe ? Jhesu Crist, oure Lord, him 
self wepte for the deth of Lazarus his frend." Prudens 
answerde : *' Certes, wel I wot, attemperel wepyng is no 
thing defended to him that sorwful is, amonges folk in 
sorwe, but it is rather graunted him to wepe. The apostel 
Poule unto the Romayns writeth, A man schal rejoyce with 
hem that maken joye, and wepe with such folk as wepen. 
But though attemperel M'^epyng be graunted, outrageous 
wepynge certes is defended. Mesure of wepynge schuld be 
conserved,"* after the lore of Crist that techeth us Senec ; 
Whan that tlii frend is deed, quod he, let nought thin yen 
to moyste ben of teres, ne to moche drye ; although the 
teeres come to thine eyghen,^ let hem not falle. And whan 
thou hast for-gon thy frend, do diligence to gete another 
frende ; and this is more wisedom than to wei^e for thy 
frend, which that thou hast lorn, for therin is no boote. 
And therfore if ye governe yow by sapience, put away 
sorwe out of youre hert. Remembreth yow that Jhesus 
Sirac saith, A man that is joyous and glad in herte, it him 
conserveth florischinge in his age ; but sothly sorweful 
herte maketh his boones drye. lie saith eek thus, that 
sorwe in herte sleth ful many a man. Salomon saith, that 
right as motthes in schepes flees annoyeth the clothes, and 
the smale wormes to the tre, right so annoyeth sorwe to 
the herte. Wherfore us oughte as wel in the deth of oure 
children, as in the losse of ourgoodes temporales, have pa- 
cience. Remembreth yow upon the pacient Job, whan he 
liadde lost his children and his temporal substance, and in 
his body endured and receyved ful many a grevous tribu- 
lacioun, yit sayde he thus : Oure Lord it sent unto me, oure 

* conserved. The Lansd. I\Is. and Tyrwhitt rear! cnnsidered ; but the read- 
ing of the Harl. Ms., representing the word gardi-r, is correct. The original 
is, " E pour ce on doit paine niettre et garder la nx'sure, que Senesquee dist." 

6 come to thine eyglwn. 1 have kept the reading of Tyrwhitt, as most ac- 
cordant with the original. " Car ja snit ce que la lurnio viengne ^ I'cueil, ello 
ne doit point yssir dehors." The liarl. Ms. has cu7ne out of thine iyjUen; tbQ 
LftuBd. Ma. comen of. 



416 THE CANTERBURY TALES, 



Lord it hath raft fro me ; right so as cure Lord wil, right 
BO be it doon ; i-blessed be the name of oure Lord ! " To 
these forsayde thinges answerith Melibeiis unto his wif 
Prudens : " Alle thine wordes ben soth," quod he, ** and 
therto profytable, but sothly myn herte is so troubled with 
this sorwe, that I noot what to doone." *' Let calle," quod 
Prudence, "thy trewe frendes alle, and thi linage, whiche 
that ben trewe and wise ; telleth hem youre grevaunce, 
andherken what thay say in counseilynge, and yowgoverne 
after here sentence. Salamon saith, werke al thi thing by 
counseil, and the thar never rewe." 

Than, by the counseil of his wyf Prudens, this Melibeus 
let calle a gret congregacioun of peple, as surgiens, phi- 
fiiciens, olde, and yonge," and some of his olde enemyes re- 
counsiled (as by her semblaunt) to his love and to his grace ; 
and therwithal ther come some of his neighebours, that 
deden him reverence more for drede than for love, as hap- 
peth ofte. Ther comen also ful many subtil. Caterers, and 
wise advoketes lerned in the lawe. And whan these folk 
togidere assemblid were, this Melibeus in sorwful wyse 
Bchewed hem his caas, and by the maner of his speche, it 
semed that in herte he bar a cruel ire, redy to do vengeance 
upon his foos, and sodeynly desirede that the werreschulde 
bygynne, but uatheles yit axed he her counseil in this 
inatier. A sirurgien, by licens and assent of suche as were 
wyse, up ros, and to Melibeus sayde, as ye may hiere. 

"Sire," quod he, " as to us sirurgiensappertieneth, that 
we do to every wight the beste that we can, wher as we ben 
withholde, and to oure pacient that we do no damage ; 
wherfore it happeth many tyme and ofte, that whan tweye 
han everich wounded other, oo same surgien heleth hem 
bothe, where unto oure art it is not perteyned to norische 
werre, ne parties to supporte. But certes, as to warisching 
of youre doughter, al be it so that sche perilously be 
woundid, we schullen do so tentyf besjaies fro day to night, 
that with the grace of God sche schal be hool and sound, 
als soone as it is possible." Almost right in the same wise 
the phisiciens answerden, save that thay sayden a fewe 
wordes more • that ryght as maladies ben cured by her 
contraries, right so schal men warissch werre by venge- 
aunce.^ His ueygheboures ful of envy, his feyned freendes 
thatsemede recounsiled, and his fiatereres,maden semblaunt 

<» olde, yonge. Tliis is literal from tiie French original. Tyrvvbitt re^ds 
olde folk and yonge. 

' warissch werre by vengeaunce. So the Harl. and Lausd. Mss. read cor- 
rectly. Tyrwhitt omits the wordjs by vengeaunce. The original id, **HUaai 
doit on gueru guerre par veugeuoe." 



THE TALE OF MEL UiKUH. 417 



of wepyn^, and appaired and a^gregged nioche of this 
matiere, in preisyn:;" gretly Milibt^ of might, of power, of 
riclies, and of frondes, despisinge the power of his adver- 
saries ; and sayden outerly, that he anoon schulde wreke 
hiui on his adversaries be bygynnynge of werre. 

Up roos thanno an advocate tliat was wys, by lev^eand 
by counseil of othere that were wise, and sayde : " Lord- 
ynges, tlie needes forwhiche we ben asseniblit in this place, 
is fill hevy thing, and an heigh matier, bycause of the 
wrong and of the wikkednes that hath ben doon, and eek 
by resoun of the grete damages that in tyme comyng ben 
possible to falle for the same, and eek by(;aiise of the grete 
richesse and power of the partes bothe, for the wlmitie re- 
souns, it were a ful gret peril to erren in these materes. 
Wherfore, Melibeus, this is oure sentence ; we counseile 
vow, aboven alle thinges, that right anoon thou do dili- 
gence in kepyng of thy body in such a wyse that thou ne 
wante noon espye ne wacche thy body for to save. And 
after that, we counseile that in thin hous thou sette suf- 
iisaunt garnisoun, so that thay may as wel thy body as 
thin hous defende. But certes for to moeve werre, no 
sodeynly for to doo vengeance, we may not deme in so lite! 
tyme that it were profitable. Wlierfore we axen leysir and 
a space to have deliberacioun^ in this caas to demen ; 
for the comune proverbe saith this ; He that soone demeth, 
soone schal repente. And eek men sayn, that thilke juge is 
wys, that soone understondeth a matier, and juggeth by 
leysir. For al be it so, that alle taryingeis anoyful, algates 
it is no reproef in gevynge of juggement, ne of vengaunce 
takyng, whan it is suffisaunt and resonable. And tliat 
gchewed oure Lord Jhesu Crist by ensample, for whan that 
the womman that was i-take in advoutrie, was brought in 
in his presence to knowen what schulde be doon of hir 
persone,al be it that he wist him self what that he wolde 
answere, yit wolde he not answere sodeynly, but he wolde 
have deliberacioun, and in the ground hem wrot twyes. 
And by these causes we axe deliberacioun ; and we schul 
thanne by the grace of (rod counseile the thing that schai 
be profytable." Upstarten thenne the yonge folkes anoon 
at oones, and the moste parte of that companye han 
skorned these olde wise men, and bygoune to make noyse 
and sayden : " Right so as whil that iren is hoot men 
scholden smyte, right so schulde men wreke here wronges. 

8 Space to have aellberacloan. 1 have added the three last words from the 
Laubd. Ms., as they are authorized by the French origiual. They are omitted 
in the liail. Ms. 

27 



418 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



whil that thay ben freisclie and newe ; " and with loud 
vols thay cryde, *' Werre, werre." 

Uproos tho oon of these olde wise, and with his hond 
make coiintenaunce that menschulde holde hem stille, and 
given hiiu audience. " Lordyngs," quod he, "ther is ful 
many a man that crieth werre, werre, that wot ful litel what 
werre amounteth. Werre at his bygynnyng hath so greet an 
entre and so large, that every wight may entje whan iiini 
liketh, and lightly fynde werre ; but certes what ende schal 
falle therof, it is not lightly to knowe. For sothly whan 
that werre isoones bygonne, therisful many a child unbore 
of his mooder that schal sterv^e yong, bycause of thilke 
werre, or elles lyve in sorwe and deye in wrecchidnes ; and 
thfirfore er that eny werre be bygonne, men moste have 
gret counseil and gret deliberacioun." And whan this olde 
man wende to enforce his tale by resouns, wel neigh aile 
at oones bygonne thay to rise, for to breke his tale, and 
beden him ful ofte his wordes to abrigge. For sothly he 
that precheth to hem that liste not to heere his wordes, his 
sermoun hem anoyeth. For Jhesus Sirac saith, thatmusik 
in wepyng ^ is a noyous thing. This is to say, as moohe 
avaylcth to speke to-fore folk to whiche his speche nn- 
noyeth, as it is to synge byfore hem whiche that wepith. 
And whan this wise man saugh him wantod audience, al 
schame-fast he sette him doun agayn. For Snlamon saith, 
Ther as thou may have noon audience, enforce the not to 
spekp.. "I se wel," quod this wise man, "that the comuno 
proverbe is soth, that good counseil wantith, whan it is 
mostneede." Yit hadde this Melibeus in his counseil many 
folk, that prively in his eere counseled him certein thiuges, 
and counseled him the contrarie in general audience. 

Whan Melibeus hadde herd that the grettest party of 
his counseil were accorded that he schulde make werre, 
anoon he consented to here counseilyng, and fully ad'ermed 
here sentence. Thanne dame Prudence, whan that sche 
saugh that hir housbonde schop him to wreke him of his 
enemyes, and to gynne werre, sche in ful humble wise, 
whan sche saugh hire tyme, sayde him these wordes : '" My 
lord," quod sche, '* I yow biseche ^"^ as hertily as 1 dar and 
kan, ne haste yow nought to faste, and for alle guerdouns 
as geve me audience. For Peres Alfons^^ saith, Who th.it 

= Musikin wtpyjig. The Harl Ms. read» wepyng in mufdk ; but the other 
reading, taken from the Lansd. Ms., is authorized not only by the French 
original, but it is required by the context. 

v> / yow biseche. "Sire, dist elle, Je vous prie que vour ne voua haetez, 
et que vous pour tons dons me donnez espace." 

1, Pfres Alfons. Peter Alfonsus, or Alfonsi, was a converted Spanish 
Jew, wbo flouriehed in the twelfth century, and is well known for his diaci. 



THE TELF. OF MEUUEUS. 419 



doth to tho ontlif»r good or harm, liaste th'^ uought to 
quyten him. for in thin wise lliy freeiid wil abyde, ami thin 
enemy sdial tho Ien}2:<'i* lyve in dredo. The proverbe saith, 
Ilf^ liasliih \\v\ tliat wi.-Iy can abyde ; and in wiklvod haste 
is no profyt." This Mehbeiis answerde unto liis wyf Pru- 
dens ; '' I purpose not," quod lie, " to workeby thy coun- 
seil, for many causes and resouns ; for cartes every wiglit 
wolde liolde me tiianne a fool ; this is to sayn, if I for thy 
counseii wolde chaunge thinges that affermed ben by so 
many wise. Secoundly, I say that aile wommen be wikked, 
and noon good of hem alle. For of a thousand men, saith 
Salamon, I fond oon good man ; butcertesof alle wommen 
good womman fond I never oon. And also certes, if 1 
governede me by thy counseii, it schulde seme that 1 hadde 
given to the over me the maistry; and God forbeede er it 
so were. For Jliesiis Sirac saith, that if a wif have mais- 
trie. sche is contrarious to hir housbond. And Salamon 
saith, Never in thy lif to thy wyf, ne to thy child, ne to thy 
freend. ne geve no pov;er over thi self ; for better it were 
that thy children axen of thy persone thinges that ben 
needful to hem, than thou se thi self in the bonds of thy 
children. And also, if I wolde werke by the counselynge, 
certes it most some tyme be secre, til it were tyme that it 
moste be knowe ; and this ne may not be." ^-^ 

Whan dame Prudence, ful debonerly and with gret 
pacience, hadde herd al that hir honsbonde liked for to 
seye, thanne axed sche of him licence for to speke, and sayde 
in this wise ; " My lord," quod sche, " as to youre firste re- 
soun, certes it may lightly bo answered ; for 1 say it is no 
foly to chaunge counsel whan the thing is chaungid, or 
elles whan the thing semeth otherwise than it was biforn. 
And moreover I say, though that ye han sworn and i-hight 
to parforme youre emprise, and natheles, ye wayve to i)ar- 
forme tliilke same emprise by juste cause, men schulde not 
say therfore that ye were a lyere, ne for-sworn ; for the 
book seith, that the wise man maketh no lesyng, whan he 
torneth his corrage to the better. And al be it so that 
youre emprise be establid and ordeyned by gret multitude 

phna clericalis,—a, collection of stories and moralizations in Latin prose, 
which was tianslated afterwards into French verse under the title of the t'as- 
toiement d'un pere d aonjils. It was a book much in vogue among the preach- 
ers from the thirteenth to the tifteenth century. 

12 Ne may not be. After this paragraph, Chaucer has omitted to translate 
a passage of" the French original, which, as it is requisite to understand some 
parts of the lady's reply, is here given. Melibeus concludes his discourse 
with the observation, " Car il est escript, la gentilorie des fenuues ne puet 
riens celler fors ce qu'elle ne scet. Apres le philoz<iphe dit, en mauvais con- 
seii les femmes vainqueut lea hommes. Ei par ces raisons je ne dois point 
user de ton couseil." 



420 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



of people, yet thar ye not accoraplise thiike same ordi- 
naunce but you like; for the trouthe of a thing, and the 
profyt, ben rather founde in fewe folk that ben wise and 
ful of resoun, than by gret multitude of folk, tlier every 
man crieth and clatereth what that him liketh ; sothely 
such multitude is not honest. And to the secounde resoun, 
wher as ye sayn, that alle wommen ben wikke ; save youre 
grace, certis ye despise alle wommen in this wise, and he 
that alle despysith, saith the book, alle displeseth.^-^ And 
Senec saith. Who so wil have sapience, schal no man dis- 
prayse, but he schal gladly teche the science that he can, 
withoute presumpcioun or pryde ; and suche thinges as he 
nought can, he schal not ben aschamed to lerne hem, and 
equere of lasse folk than himself. And, sire, that ther hath 
be ful many a good womman, may lightly be proeved ; for 
certes, sire, our Lord Jhesu Crist nolde never han descend- 
ed to be borne of a womman,^* if alle wommen hadde ben 
wikke. And after that, for the grete bounto that is in 
wommen, oure Lord Jhesu Crist, whan he was risen fro 
deth to lyve, apperede rather to a womman than to his 
apostles. And though that Salamon say, he fond never 
good womman, it folwith nought therfore, that alle wom- 
men ben wikke; for though that he fonde noone goode 
wommen, certes many another man hath founden many a 
womman ful goode and trewe. Or elles paraventure then- 
tent of Salamon was this, as in sovereyn bounte he fond 
no womman ; this is to say, that ther is no wight that hath 
soverein bounte, save God aloone, as he him self rocord- 
etli in his Evaungelie. For ther nys no creature so good, 
that him ne wantith som what of the perfeccioun of Grod 
that is his makere. Youre thridde resoun is this ; ye seyn 
that if ye governed yow by counsel of me, it schulde seme 
that ye hadde geve me the maystry and the lordschipe over 
youre persone. Sire, save youre grace, it is not so ; for if 
so wero tiiat no man schulde be counselled but by hem 
that hadde maystrie and lordschipe of liis persone, men 
wolde nought be counselled so ofte ; for sothly thiike man 
that axeth counseil of a purpos, yet hath he fre chois 
whether he wil werke by that purpos or non. And as to 
youre ferthe resoun, ther ye sayn that the jauglene of 
wommen can hyde thinges that thay wot not of ; as who 
saith, that a womman can nought hyde that sclie woot ; 
sire, these wordes ben understonde of wommen that ben 

^ And he that alle despysith. " Car il est escript, qui tout deeprise, ^ tou3 
deeplaist." The words alle displesetk are omitted in the Harl. Ms. 

1* May lighlly . . . of a womman. The whole of this passage has been 
accidentally' omitted by the scribe of the Harl. Ms. It ia here supplied from 
tbe Laiisd. Ms. 



THE TALE OF MELTBEUS. 421 

jangrelers and M'ikke ; of whiche wommen men sayn that 
thre thinges dryven a man out of his oughne hous ; that is 
to say, smoke, droppyng of reyn, and wikked wyfes. Of 
sucho wommen saith Salamon, that it were better to a man 
to dwelle in desert, than with a womman that is riotous. 
And, sire, by youre leve, that am not I ; for ye han ful ofte 
assayed my grete silence and my grete pacience, and eek 
how wel that I can liyde and hele thinges that ben secrely 
to hyde. And sotlily, as to yonre fyfte resoun, wher as ye 
sayn, that in wikkede counseil wommen venquisschetli 
men, God wot thiike resoun stont here in no stede ; for 
understondith now, ye axen counseil to do wickidnes ; and 
if ye wil wirke wickidnes, and youre wyf restreyne thiike 
wicked purpos, and overcome you by resoun and by good 
counseil, certes youre wyf oweth rather be preised than 
y-blamed. Thus schulde ye understonde the philosopher 
that seith. In wicked counseil wommen venquyschen her 
housbondes. And ther as ye blame alle wymmen and here 
resouns, I schal schewe by many resouns and ensamples 
that many a womman hath ben ful good, and yit been and 
here counseiles ful holsome and profitable. Eke some men 
han sayd, that the counseilyng of wommen is outher to 
dere, or to litel of pris. But al be it so that ful many a 
womman is badde, and hir counseil vile and not worth, yet 
han men founde many a ful good womman, and ful dis- 
cret and wys in counseilyng. Lo, Jacob, by counseil of 
his moder Rebecca, wan the blessyng of his fader Ysaae, 
and the lordschipe of alle his bretheren. Judith, by hire 
good counseil, delyvered the citee of Bethulie, in which 
sche dwell id, out of the honde of Olophernus, tjiat had by- 
seged it, and wolde it al destroye. Abigayl delivered Na- 
bal hir housbond fro David the king, that wolde have 
i-slayn him, and appesed the ire of the kyng by hir witte, 
and by hir good counseilynge. Hester by good counseil 
enhaunsed gretly the poeple of Grod, in the regne of Assue- 
rus the kyng. And the same bounte in good counseilyng of 
many a good womman may men rede and telle. And 
moreover, whan oure Lord had creat Adam oure forme 
fader, he sayde in this wise: It is not good to be a man 
aloone ; make we to him an help semblable to him self. 
Here may ye se that if that a womman were not good, and 
hir counseil good and profytable, oure Lord God of heven 
wolde neither have wrought hem, ne called hem help of 
man, but rather confusioun of man. And ther sayde oones 
a clerk in tuo versus,i^ What is better that gold ? Jasper. 

" In two versus. I have uot met witli the two verses iu quoBtion ; but 



422 TU^ CANTERBURY TALES. 

And what is better than jasper ? Wisedom. And what is 
better than wisedom ? Wominan. And what >s bettei 
than a f;ood womman? No thing. Aud, sire, by many 
other resouns may ye se, that many womnien ben goode, 
and eek her counseil good^*" and profitable. And therfore, 
if ye will truste to my counseil, 1 schal restore you your 
doughter hool and sound ; and eek I wil doon you so 
moche, that ye scliul have honour in this cause." 

Whan Melibe had herd these wordes of his wif Prudens, 
he seide thus : " I se wel that that the word of Salamon is 
soth ; he seith, that the wordes that ben spoken discretly 
by ordinaunce, been honycombes, for tliay geven swetnes 
to the soule, and holsomnes^^ to the body. And, wyf, by- 
cause of thy swete wordes, and eek for 1 have assayed and 
proved thi grete sapiens and thi grete trouthe, I wil gov- 
erne me by thy counseil in alle thinges." 

*' Now, sire," quod dame Prudens, " and syn ye vouchen 
sauf to be governed by my counseilyng, I wil enforme you 
how ye schul governe youre self, 'nn eliesyng of youre con- 
seil. Ye schul first in alle youre werkes mekely biseche to 
the hihe God, that he wol be your counseilour ; and schape 
you to that entent that he give you counseil and confort, 
as taughte Toby his sone : At alle tymes thou schalt blesse 
God, and pray him to dresse thy wayes ; and loke that alle 
thi counseiles be in him for evermore. Seint Jame eek 
saith : If eny of yow have neede of sapiens, axe it of God. 
And aftirward, thanne schul ye take counseil in youre self, 
and examine wel youre thoughtes, of suche thinges as you 
thinkith that is best for youre profyt. And thanne schul 
ye dryve fro youre herte thre thinges i^ that ben contrarie 
to good counseil ; that is to say, ire, coveytise, and hasty- 
nes. First, he that axeth counseil of him self, certes he 
moste be withoute ire, for many cause. The first is this : 

they seem to be a modification of a disticli which is not nncommon in mss., 
aud wliich are printed thus iu the lleliq. Antiq. i, p. lii ;— 

Auro quid melius ? jaspis. Quid jaspide ? sensus. 

Sensu quid? ratio. Qiudratioue? nihil. 
In the manuscript from which this distich is there printed, it is coupled with 
another much less favorable to the fair sex than the version given by dame 
Prudence : — 

Vento quid levlus ? f ulgur. Quid fulgure ? flamma. 

Flammaquid? mulior. Quidmuliere? nihil. 
^8 And eek her counseil good. These words have been accidentally omitted 
in the Harl. Ms. 

17 Holsomnes. The Harl. Ms. reads erroneously holines. The French 
original has et saiiti au corps. 

i» Dryve fro youre herte thre thinges. The Harl. Ms. reads imperfectly 
herfes tho that ben, and the Lansd. Ms. omits the word thre, which, however, 
is requisite to give the full sense of the original,— ''Et lora tu doia oster dti 
toy troix choaes qui sont contraires a couseil." 



THE TA LE OF MEL IB E US. 423 

he that hath gret ire and Avraththe in him self, he weneth 
ahvey he may do thing that he may not doo. And secound- 
ly, he that is irons and wroth, he may not wel deme ; and 
he that may not wel deme, may nought wel eounseiJe. The 
thridde is tliis : that he that is irons and wroth, as saith 
Senec, may not speke but blameful things, and with his 
vicious wordes he stireth other folk to anger and to ire. 
And eek, sire, ye moste dryve coveitise out of your lierte. 
For thapostie saith that coveytise is roote of alle harmes. 
And trusteth wel, that a coveitous man no can not deme 
ne thinke, but oonly to fulfille the ende of his coveitise ; 
and certes that may never ben accomplised ; for ever the 
more abundaunce that he hath of riches, the more he de- 
sireth. And, sire, ye moste also dryve out of your herte 
hastynes ; for certes ye may nought deme for tlie beste a 
sodein thought that falleth in youre herte, but ye moste 
avyse you on it ful ofte. For as ye herde here biforn, the 
conjune proverbe is this ; that he that soone demeth, soone 
repentith. Sire, ye ben not alway in lik disposicioun, for 
certis som thing that som tyme semetli to yow that it is 
good for to doo, anotiier tyme it semeth to you the con- 
trarie. Whan ye han taken counseil in youre selven, and 
han demed by good deliberacioun such thing as yow sem- 
eth best, thanne redo I you that ye kepe it secre. By- 
wreye nought youre counseil to no persone, but it so be 
that ye wene sicurly, that thurgh youre by wreyinge you le 
condicioun schal be to yow the more profytable. For 
Jhesus Syrac saith. Neither to thi foo ne to thi freend dis- 
covere not thy secre ne thy foly ; for they wil give you au- 
dience and lokyng and supportacioun in thi presence, and 
scorn in thin absence. Another clerk saith, that skarsly 
schal thou fynde eny persone that may kepe counseil se- 
creely. The book saith : Whil thou kepist thi counsail in 
thin herte, thou kepest it in thi prisoun ; and whan thou 
bywieyest thi counseil to any wight, he holdeth the in his 
snare. And therfore yow is better hyde your counseil in 
youre herte, than prayen him to whom ye have bywryed 
youre counseil, that he wol kepe it clos and stille. For 
Seneca seith : If so be that thou ne maist not thin owne 
counseil hyde, how darst thou preyen any other wight thy 
counseil seoreely to kepe ? But natheles, if thou wene se- 
curiy that thy bywreying of thy counseil to a persone wol 
make thy condicioun stonde in the better plite, thanne 
schalt thou telle him thy counseil in this wise. First, thou 
schalt make no semblaunt wher the were lever werre or 
pees, or this or that ; ne schewe him not thi wille and thin 
en tent ; for truste wel that coDiunly these counBeilours beu 



424 THE CANTEItBUBT TALES. 



flaterers, namely the counselours of grete Jordes, for thay 
enforcen hem alway rather to speke plesaunt wordes enclyn- 
yng to the lordes lust, than wordes that been trewe and 
profytable. And therfore men say, that the riche man 
hatli selden good counseil, but if he have it of him self. 
And after that thou schalt consider thy frendes and thine 
eneinyes. And as touching thy frendes, thou schalt con- 
sidere which of hem beth most faithful and most wise, and 
eldest and most approvyd in counsayiinge ; and of hem 
echalt thou axe thy counsail, as the caas requireth. 

" I say, that first ye schul clepe to youre counseil youi ? 
frendes that ben trewe. For Salamon saith, that right as 
the hert of a man delitith in savour that is soote, right ^Q 
the counseil of trewe frendes geveth svvetnes to the soula 
He saith also, ther may no thing be likened to the trewe 
freend ; for certes gold ne silver beth nought so ujociie 
worth as the goode wil of a trewe freend. And eek he 
sayde, that a trewe trend is a strong defens ; who that it 
fyndeth, certes he fyndeth a gret tresour! Thanne schul 
we can considere if that youre trewe frendes ben discrete 
and wyse ; for the book saith, Axe thi counseil alwey of 
hem that ben wyse. And by this same resoun schuf ye 
clepe to your counseil of youre frendes that ben of age, 
suche as have i-seye sightes and ben expert in many 
thinges, and ben approvyd in counseylinges. For the 
book saith, ^^ that in olde men is the sapience, and in 
longe tyme the prudence. And TuUius saith, that grete 
thinges ben not ay accompliced by strengthe, ne by delyv- 
ernes of body, but by good counseil, by auctorite of per- 
sones, and by science ; the whiche thre thinges ne been 
not feble by age, but certis thay enforsen and encresen day 
by day. And thanne schul ye kepe this for a general 
reule. First schul ye clepe to youre counseil a fewe ol 
youre frendes that ben especial. For Salamon saith, 
many frendes have thou, but among a thousand chese the 
oon to be thy counsel lour. For al be it so, that thou first 
ne telle thy counseil but to a fewe, thou mayst afterward 
telle it to mo folk, if it be neede. But loke alwey that thy 
counseilours have thilkethre condiciouns that I have sayd 
bifore ; that is to say, that they ben trewe, and olde, aiul 
of wys experiens. And werke nought alwey in every ne; <' . 
by oon counseilour alloone ; for som tyme byhoveth ii oc 
counselled by many. For Salamon saith, Salvacioun of 
thinges is wher as there beth many counseilours. 

»» F(yr the book saith. The origiiia] refers for this maxim to the book ol 
Job,—" Oar il est oscript eu Job," 



TEE TALE OF MELIBEVS. 425 



** Now sith that I have told yow of whiche folk ye schul 
be counselled, now wil I telle yow which coiinseil ye ought 
eschiewe. First, ye schal eschiewe the counseil of fooles ; 
for Salamon seith, Take no counseil of a fool, for he ne can 
not counseile but after his oughne lust and his affeccioun. 
The book seith, that the proprete of a fool is this : he trow- 
eth lightly harm of every wight, and lightlj^ troweth alle 
bounte in him self. Thow schalt eschiewe eek the counseil 
of alle flaterers, suche as enforcen hem rathere to prayse 
youre persone by llaterie, than for to telle yow the soth- 
fastnesse of thinges. Wherfore Tullius saith, Amonges 
alle pestilences that ben in frendschipe, the grettest is 
flaterie. And therfore is it more neede that tliou eschiewe 
and drede llaterers, more than enj other peple. The book 
saith, Thou schalt rather drede and flee fro the swete 
wordes of flaterers, then fro the egre wordes of thy frend 
that saith the tlii sothes. Salamon saith, that the wordes 
of a flaterer is a snare to cacche in innocentz. He saith 
also, He that speketh to his frend wordes of swetnesse and 
of plesaunce, setteth a nette byfore his feet to cacchen him. 
And therfore saith Tullius, Encline not thin eeres to flat- 
erers, ne tak no counseil ^^ of the wordes of flaterers. And 
Catoun'^J^ saith, Avyse the wel, and eschiewe wordes of 
svvetnes and of plesaunce. And eek thou schalt eschiewe 
the counselyng of thin olde enemys that ben recounsiled. 
Tiie book saith, that no wight retorneth safly^^ into the 
grace of his olde enemyes. And Ysope-^ saith, Ne truste 
not to hem, with which thou hast had som tyme werre or 
enmyte, ne telle not hem thy counseil. And Seneca telleth 
the cause why ; it may not be, saith he, that wher as a 
greet fuyr hath longe tyme endured, that there ne lev- 
eth som vapour of hete. And therfore saith Salamon, In 
thin olde enemy truste thou nevere. For sicurly, though 
thin enemy be reconsiled, and make the cheer of humilite, 
and lowteth to the h»is heed, ne trist him never ; for certes 
he makith thilke feyned humilite more for his profyt, than 
for eny love of thi persone ; bycause he demyth to have 
victorie over thi persone by such feyned countynaunce, the 
which victorie he might nought have by stryf and werre. 
And Petir Alphons saith : Make no felaschipe with thine 

20 counseil. I have retained this reading on the authority of Ms. Lansd. 
and the original French. The Harl. Ms. reads canfort. 

■-' Catoim. Lib. iii. dist. 6,— 

Sermones blandos blajsosque cavere memento. 

22 Safly. In tlio French original, scureinent. Tlie Harl. ivrs. reads xnone, 

" Ysone. Several collectious of tables in the middle ages went un.l((r the 
utome of Ysope, or -^sop ; so that it would not be easy to point out Uio oae 
from which this moral aphorieiu Is talseu. 



426 THE CANTERBUUY TALES. 

olde enemyes, for if thou do hem bouiite, they wil per- 
verten it into wikkednes. And eek thou most eschiewe 
the counseilynge of hem that ben thy servauntz, and 
beren the gret reverence ; for paraventure thai say it more 
for drede tlian for love. And thcrfore saith a philosophre in 
this wise : Ther is no wight parfytly trewe to hiin tliat he 
to sore dredeth. And Tullius saitli, Ther is no might so 
gret of any emperour that long may endure, but if he have 
more love of the peple than drede. Thow schalt also es- 
chiewe the counseil of folk that bon dronkelewe, for thay 
rie can no counsel hyde. For Salamon saith, There is no 
privete ther as regneth dronkenesse.'^* Ye schul also have 
in puspect the counseil of such folk as counseileth you oon 
thing prively, and counseile yow the contrarie openly. For 
Cassiodorie saith, It is a maner sleighte to hindro,-^ whan 
he schewith to doon oon thing openly, and werkith prively 
the contrarie. Thou schalt also eschiewe the counseil of 
vvikked folkes; for the book saith. The counselyng of 
wikked folk is alway ful of fraude. And David saith, Blis- 
ful is that man that hath not folwed the counseilyng of 
wikked men or schrewes. Thow schalt also eschiewe the 
counseilynge of yonge folk, for here counseil is nought 
rype. 

"Now, sire, syn I have schewed j^ow of what folk ye 
schul take youre counsail, and of whiche folk ye schullen 
eschiewe the counseil, now schal I teche yow how ye schul 
examyne youre counseil after the doctrine of Tullius. In 
examynyng of youre counseiloures, ye schul considre many 
thinges. Althirfirst ye schul considre that in tliilke thing 
that thou proposist, and up what thing thou wilt have 
counseil, that verray trouthe be sayd and considerid ; this 
is to sayn, telle trewely thy tale. For he that saith fals, 
may not wel be counseled in that cas of which he lyeth. 
And after this, thou schalt considere the thinges that ac- 
corden to that purpos for to do by thy counseil, if resoun 
accoi'de therto, and eek if thy might may accorde therto, 
and if the more part and the better part of Uiy counseil- 
ours accorde therto oi noon. Thanne schalt thou con- 
sidere what thing schal folwe of that consailynge ; as hate, 
pees, werre, grace, profyt, or damage, and many other 
thinges ; and in alle these thinges thou schalt chese the 
beste, and weyve alle other thinges. Thanne schalt thou 

=■• (irofikenesse. Nul secret n'est oii regne yvresse. Fr. orlg. 

2f' to hindre- Tyrwhitt, with the Lansd. Ms., reads to hinder his enemy 
which conveys a incaiiiiif^ totally different from that of the original French, 
which has : " Cassiodoire dit, nne maniern do grever son am;/ est qnant on lul 
oonaeille uue choae eu eecret et monstre eu appert que on veiilt le coiitraire." 



THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 427 



considre of what roote engendred is the raatier of thy o.onn- 
seil, and what fruyt it may conceve and enprendre. Thow 
schalt also consider al these causes, from whens thai hen 
sprongen. And whan ye have examined youre counseih as 
1 have said, and which party is the better and more profit- 
able, and lian approved by many wise folk and olde, than 
schalt thow considre, if thou maist parforme it and make 
of it a good ende. For resoun wol nought that any man 
schuld bygynne a thing, but if he mighte parforme it and 
make therof a good ende ; ne no wight schuld take upon 
him so hevy a charge, that he un'ghte not heva it. For'the 
proverbe seith, He that moche embrasith destroyeth "^'^ litel. 
And Catoun^'^ seith, Assay to do such thing as thou hast 
power to doon, lest that thy charge oppresse the so sore, 
that the bi hove to wayve thing that' thou hast bygonne. 
And if so be that thou be in doubte, wher thou maist {jar- 
forme a thing or noon, chese rather to suffre than l)ygynne. 
And Petre Alfons saith, If thou hast might to doon a 
thing, of which thou most repente, it is better nay than 
yee ; this is to sayn, that the is better holde thy toiige 
stille than to speke. Than may ye understonde by strenger 
resouns, that if thou hast power to performe a werk, of 
which thou schalt repente, thanne is it better that thou 
suffre than bigynne. Wei seyn thay that defenden every 
wight to assaie thing of which he is in doute, whethir he 
may performe it or noon. And after whan ye han ex- 
amyned youre counseil, as I have sayd biforn, and knowen 
wei ye may performe youre emprise, conferme it thanne 
sadly til it be at an ende. 

" Now is it tyme and resoun that Ischewe yow whanne, 
and wherfore, that ye may chaunge youre counseil with- 
outen reproef . Sothly, a man may chaunge his purpos and 
his counseil, if the cause cesseth, or whan anewe cause by- 
tydeth. For the lawe seith, upon thinges that newely by- 
tideth, bihoveth newe counseil. And Seneca seith, If thy 
counseil be comen to the eeres of thin enemy, chaunge thy 
counsail. Thow maist also chaunge thy counseil, if so be 
that thou fynde that by errour, or by other {jrocesse, harm 
or damage may bytyde. Also thou chaunge thy counseil,'^ 
if thy counseil be dishonest, or elles cometh of dishoneste ', 

26 destroyeth. The Lansd. Ms. and Tyrwliitt read distrcincth. Tho orig- 
inal lias, "Car on dit ou proverbe, Qui trop embrasbe, pou estraiiit." 
2' Catoun. This is from the Dc Morib. lib, iii. dist. 16,— 

Quod potes, id tentato ; operis ne pondere piessus 
Succumbat labor et frustra tentata relinquas. 
** also thou chaunge. The original gives this briefly, "Aprfca, quant le 
coueeil etit deBbonneste ou vient de cause deslionueste, il est de null© value.'* 



428 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



for the lawes sayn, that alle the hestes that ben dishoneste 
ben of no valieu ; and eek, if it so be that it be impossible, 
or may not goodly be performed or kept. And take this 
for a general reule, that every counseil that is affermed or 
Btrengthed so strongly that it may not be chaunged for no 
condicioun that may bitide, I say that tliilke counseil is 
wikked." 

This Melibeus, whan he had lierd the doctrine of his 
wyf dame Prudens, answerde in this wise. *' Dame," quod 
he, *' yit as into this tyme ye han Avel and covenably taught 
me, as in general, how I schal governe me in the chesynge 
and in the withholdynge of my counseiloures ; but now 
wold I fayn ye wolde condescende as in especial, and tell- 
eth me what semeth or how liketh yow by oure counseil- 
oures that we han chosen in oure present neede." 

" My Lord," quod sche, '' I bysekeyow in alhumblesce, 
that ye wil not wilfully repplye ageinst my resouns, ne 
disteuipre youre herte, though I say or speke thing that 
yow displesith, for God woot that, as in myn entent, I 
speke it for youre beste, for youre honour, and for your 
profyt eek, and sothly I hope that youre benignite wol take 
it into pacience. For trusteth me wel," quod sche, "that 
youre counseil as in this caas ne schulde not (as for to speke 
propurly) be called a counseilyng, but a mocioun or a 
moevyng of foly, in which counseil j^e han erred in many 
a sondry wise. First and forward, ye han erred in the 
gaderyng of youre counseilours ; for ye schulde first han 
cleped a fewe fulkes, if it hadde be neede. But certes ye 
lian sodeinly cleped to your counseil a gret multitude of 
poeple, ful chargeous and ful anoyous for to hiere. Also 
ye han erred, for ther as ye schulde oonly have clepid to 
youre counseil youre trewe frendes, olde and wise, ye have 
i-clei:)ed straunge folk, yonge folk, false (laterers, and ene- 
myes reconsiled, and folk that doon yow reverence with- 
oute love. And also ye han erred, for ye han brought with 
yow to youre counseil ire, coveitise, and hastj^nes, the 
whiche thre things ben contrarious to every counsail hon- 
est and profitable ; the which thre thinges ye have nought 
annentissched or destroyed, neyther in youre self ne in youre 
counseiloures, as ye oughte. Also ye have erred, for ye 
have schewed to youre counseilours youre talent and 
youre ad'eccioun to make werre, and for to doon vengeaunce 
anoon, and thay han espyed by youre wordes to what 
thinge ye ben enclined ; and therefore have thay counselled 
yow rather to youre talent than to youre profyt. Ye have 
erred also, for it semeth that yow sufficeth to Iwive been 
counseiled by these counseilours only, and with litcl avys, 



THE TALK OF MELIBEUS. 429 



wher as in so gret and so heigh a neede, it hadde he neces- 
sarions mo counseilours and more deliberacioun to per- 
forme youre emprise. Ye have erred also,^^ for ye have 
maked no divisioun bytwixe youre counseilours ; this is to 
seyn, bitwix youre frendes and youre feyned counseilours ; 
ne ye ne have nought i-knowe the wille of youre frendes, 
olde and wise, but ye have castalle here wordes in an hoche- 
pocho, and enclyned youre herte to the more part and to 
the gretter nombre, and there be ye condescendid ; and 
syn ye wot wel men schal alway fynde a gretter nombre of 
fooles than of wyse men, and therfore the counsailes that 
ben at congregaciouns and multitudes of folk, ther as men 
taken more reward to the nombre than to the sapience of 
persones, ye se wel that in suche counseilynges fooles have 
maystrie." 

Melibeus answerde agayn and sayde : ** I graunte wel 
that I have erred ; but ther as thou hast told me to-forn, 
that he is nought to blame that chaungeth his counseilours 
in certeyn caas, and for certeyn juste causes, I am al redy 
to chaunge my counseilours right as thou wiltdevyse. The 
proverbe saith, that for to do synne is mannysch, but cer- 
tes for to persevere longe in synne is werk of the devyl." 

To this sentence anoon answerde dame Prudens, and 
saide : " Examineth," quod sche, "youre counsail, and 
let us se which of hem hath spoke most resonably, and 
taught 3'ou best counsail. And for as moche as the ex- 
aminacioun is necessarie, let us byginne at thesurgiensand 
at the phisiciens, that first speken in this matiere. I say 
you that the surgiens and the phisiciens han sayd yow in 
youre counseil discretly, as hem ought ; and inhere speche 
sayden ful wisely, that to the office of hem appendith to 
doon to every wight honour and profyt, and no wight to 
annoy, and after here craft to do gret diligence unto the 
cure of hem whiche that thay have in here governaunce. 
And, sire, right as thay answerde wisely and discretly, 
right so rede I that thay be heighly and soveraignly guer- 
doned for here noble speche, and eek for thay schullen do 
the more ententyf besynes in the curyng of youre doughter 
dere. For al be it so that that be youre frendes, therfore 
schul ye nought suffre that thay schul serve yow for nought, 
but ye oughte the rathere to guerdoune hem and scliewe 
liem youre largesse. And as touchynge the proposiciouns 
whiche the phisiciens han schewed you in this caas, this is 

2» Ye have erred also. Tyrwliitt lias here added a short paragraph, appar- 
ently made up from more than one ms. The original is : " Aprt's in as err6 
quant tu ae feit la division de ton t-onseil ; tu n'as mie suivy la voulent*^ de 
tee loyaux amis saigcs et anciens, mais as seulement regard^ le grante nom- 
bre ; et tu sees que tousjours li fol sent en plus grant nombre que ies eaigee." 



130 TUE CANTERBURY TALES. 



to sayn, that in maladyes oon contrarie is warisshed by 
another contrarie, I wofde fayn kuowe thilke text and how 
thay understonde it, and what is youre entente." " Cer- 
tes," quod MeUbeus, " I understonde it in this wise ; that 
rig:ht as thay han do me a contrarie, right so schold I 
do hem another ; for right as thai han venged hem on 
me and doon me wrong, right so schal I venge me upon 
hem, and doon hem wrong ; and thanne have I cured oon 
contrarie by another." " Lo, Lo," quod dame Prudence, 
" how Ughtly is every man enclyned to his oughne plea- 
aunce and to his oughne desir I Certes," quod sche, "the 
wordes of the phisiciens ne schuldo nought have ben un- 
derstonde sone in that wise ; for certes wikkednesse is no 
contrarie to wickednesse, ne vengauns to vengeaunce, ne 
wrong to wrong, but thai ben sembiable ; and therfore a 
vengeaunce is nought warisshed by another vengeaunce ne 
oon wrong by another wrong, buteverych of hem encreseth 
and engreggith other. But certes the wordes of the phisi- 
ciens schul ben understonde in this wise ; for good and 
wikkednesse ben tuo contraries, and pees and werre, ven- 
geaunce and sufferaunce, discord and accord, and many 
other thinges ; but, certes, wikkednes schal be warrisshed 
by goodnesse, discord by accord, werre by pees, and so 
forth of other tliinges. And herto accordith seint Paul the 
apostil in many places ; he saith, Ne yeldith nought harm 
for harm, ne wikked speche for wikked speche ; but do 
wel to him that doth the harm, and blesse him that saith 
the harme. And in many other places he amoncsteth pees 
and accord. But now wil 1 speke to yow of the counseil, 
which was give to yow by the men of la we, and the wise 
folk, and olde folk,^^ that sayde alle by oon accord as ye 
have herd byfore, that over alle thinges ye schal do youre 
diligence to kepe youre persone, and to warmstore youre 
house ; and seyden also, that in this yow aughte for to 
wirche ful avysily and with gret deliberacioun. And, sire, 
as to the firste poynt, that touched to the kepinge of youre 
persone, ye schul understonde, that he that hath werre, 
schal evermore devoutly and mekely prayen biforn alle 
thinges, that Jhesu Crist wil of his mercy have him in his 
proteccioun, and ben his soverayn helpyng at his neede ; 
for certes in this world ther nys no wight that may be 
counselled or kept sufBcauntly, withoute the kepinge of 
oure lord Jhesu Crist. To this sentence accordeth the pro- 
phete David, that seith : If God ne kepe not the citee, in 
ydel wakith he that kepith it. Now, sire, tha:n\o schul ye 

30 and olde folk. These three words are omitted in the Harl. Ns., but 1 
bays restored them from the Als. Lausd. aud the i^'reuch Qrigiual. 



THE TALK OF MELTBEUS. 4?T 



committe the keping: of youre persone to youre trewc 
frendes, that ben approved and y-knowe, and of hem scnul 
ye axen help, youre persone to kepe. For Catoun^^ saitb • 
if thou have neede of help, axe it of thy freendes. for ther 
is noon so good a ])hisicien at neede as is a trowe frend. 
And after this than schal ye kepe you fro alio straunge 
folkes, and for lyeres, and have alway in suspect here oom- 
paigjiye. For Pieres Alfons saith : N take no conipaignie 
by the way of a straunge man, but so be tljat thou knowe 
him of a lenger tyme ; and if so be he falle into thy com- 
paignye paraventure withouten thin assent, enquere 
thanne, as subtilly as thou maist, of hisconversacioun, and 
of his lyf bifore, and feyne thy way, and say that thou wilt 
go thider as thou wolt nought goon ; and if he here aspere, 
hold the on the right syde, and if he here a swerd, holde 
the on the lyft syde. And so after this, thanne schul ye 
kepe you wisely from al such pepleas I have sayd bifore, 
and hem and here counseil eschiewe. And so after this, 
thanne schul ye kepe yow in such manere, that for eny 
presumpcioun of youre strengthe, that ye des})ise not the 
might of youre adversarie so lite, that ye lete the kepiiige 
of youre persone for your presumpcioun ; for every wis 
man dredeth his enemy. And Salamon saith, Weleful is 
he that of alle hath drede ; for certes he that thurgh 
hardy nes of his herte, and thurgh the hardinesse of him- 
self, hath to gret presumpcioun, him schal evyl bitide. 
Thanne schal ye evermore counterwayte enibusshementz 
and alle espiaille. For Senec saith, that the wise man that 
dredith harmes, eschiewith harmes, ne he ne fallith into 
noone perils, that perils eschieweth. And al be it so that 
the seme that thou art in siker place, yit schaltow alway 
do thy diligence in kepyng of thy persone ; this is to say^ 
be not necgligent to kepe thy persone, nought oonly for 
thy gretteste enemyes, but fro thy lest enemyes. Senec 
saith : A man that is wel avysed, he dredith his lest enemy. 
Ovide seith,^^ that the litel wesil wol sle the grete bole and 
the wilde hert. And the book saith, a litel thorn wol 
I)rikke a king ful sore, and an hound wol holde the wilde 
boore. But n^itheles, I say not that ye schul be so moche 
a coward, that ye doute where is no neede or drede. The 

8' Cafmin. The passage alluded to is found in the Distch. «le Morib. lib. 
iv. diet. U. 

Auxiliuni a uotis petito, si forte labmas, 

Nee quisquam laolior medicus quaui Hdus amicus. 

32 Ovide seith. The oriinnal quotes more fully, " Kt Ovide, on livre due 
Remede d'Amours." Tho ii:ixim is not found, as far as I can discover, in 
Ovid de Kenied. Amor. 



432 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

book saith,^^ that som folk have gret lust to disceyve, but 
yit thay dreden hem to be deceyved. Yet schal ye drede 
to ben empoisoned. And kepe the fro the companye of 
scorners ; for the book saith, with scorners make no com- 
paignye, but flee hem and here wordes as venym. 

" Now as to the secounde poynt, where as youre wise 
counseilours warnede yow to vs^armstore youre hous with 
grei diligence, I wolde fayn wite how that ey understoode 
thilke wordes, and what is your sentence." Melibeus an- 
swerde and saide : " Certes, I understonde it in this wise, 
that I schal warmstore myn hous with toures, suche as ban 
castiles and other maner edifices, and armure, and artil- 
ries ; by suche thinges I may my persone and myn hous so 
kepen and edifien and defenden, that myn enemyes schul 
be in drede myn hous to approche." 

To this sentence answerde dame Prudence :*' Warm- 
storynge," quod sche, *' of heihe toures and grete edifices, 
is with grete costages and grete travaile ; and whan tliat 
thay ben accomplised, yit beth thay nought worth a straw, 
but if they be defender! by trewe frendes, that beth olde 
and wise. And underetondeth that the grettest strength or 
garnisoun that the riche man may have, as wel to kei)e 
his persone as his goodes, is that he be biloved with his 
subgites and with his neighebours. For thus saith Tullius, 
that ther is a maner garnisoun that no num may ven- 
quisshe ne discomfite, and that is a lord to be biloved with 
his citezeins and of his peple. 

" Now thanne as to youre thridde poynt, where as youre 
olde and wyse counseillours sayde, ye oughte nought so- 
deinly ne hastily procede in thisneede, but that ye oughte 
purveyen yow and apparaile yow in this caas with greet 
diligence and gret deliberacioun ; trewely, I trowe, that 
thay sayden soth and right wisely. For Tullius saith : ' In 
every nede, er thou bigynne it, apparaile the with gret dil- 
igence.' Thanne say I, that in vengeance takinge, in 
werre, in bataile, and in warmstoringe of thin hous, er 
thou bygynne, I rede that thou apparaille the therto, and 
do it with gi-et deliberacioun. For Tullius saith, that long 
apparaylyng byfore the bataille, maketh schort victorie. 
And Oassidorus saith, the garnisoun is strenger whan it is 
long tyme avysed. 

" But now let us speke of the counseil that was accorded 

S3 The hool: saith. " Car il est escript, aucunes gens out enaeingriie leur 
decevoir. car ila ont trop doubte que on ne lee deoeust." Tyrwhitt has what 
he rails '' patched up" this passage in his edition, by the insertion of some 
words of his own. I have followed the JIarl. Ms. exactly. Chaucer ampli- 
fies and alters his original in this part, which makes it dilflcult to correct it 
by the French. 



THE TALE OF MEL IB E US. 433 



by youre neighebours, suche as doon you reverence with- 
oute love, youre olde enemyes recounsiled, your flatereres, 
that counsel le yow certeyn thinges pryvely, and openly 
counseile yow the contrarie, the yonge also, that counsaile 
yow to make werre and venge yow anoon. And certes, 
sire, as 1 have sayd byforn, ye have gretly erred to have 
cleped such nianer folk to youre counseil, whiche be now 
repreved by resouns before sayd. But natheles let us now 
descends '■o the purpos special. Ye schul first precede after 
the doctrine of Tullius. Certes, the trouthe of this matier 
or this counseil nedeth nought diligently enquere, for it is 
wel wist whiche it ben that doon to yow this trespas and 
vilonye, and how many trespasoures, and in what maner 
thay han to yow doon al this wrong al this vilonye. And 
after that schul ye examyne the secounde condicioun, 
which Tullius addith therto in this matier. Tullius put a 
thing, which that he clepeth consentynge ; ^^ this is to 
sayn, who ben thay, and whiche ben thay, and how many, 
that consentid to this matiere, and to thy counsail in thy 
wilfuhiesse, to do hasty vengeaunces. And let us considei-e 
also who ben tho, and how many ben tlio, that consente- 
den^'' to youre adversaries. And certes, as to the first 
poynt, it is wel knowen whiche folk ben thay that consentad 
to youre first wulfulnes. For trewly, alle tho that coun- 
sailled yow to make sodeyn werre, l)eth nought youre 
frendes. Let us considre whiche ben tho that ye holde so 
gretly youre frendes, as to youre persone ; for al be it so 
that ye be mighty and riche, certes ye been alloone ; for 
certes ye have no childe but a doughter, ne ye have no 
bretheren, ne cosins germayns, ne noon other neigh kyn- 
rede, wherfore that youre enemyes for drede schulden 
stynte for to plede with you, and struye youro persone. 
Ye knowe also, that youre richesses mooten in divers par- 
ties be departed ; and whan every wight hath his part, 
thay wol take but litel reward to venge thy deth. But 
thyne enemyes ben thre, and have many childi-en, breth- 
eren, cosynes, and othere neigh kynrede ; and though it so 
were ye hadde slayn of hem tuo or thre, yet dwelien there 
y-nowe to wreke her deth and sle thi persone. And though 
so were that youre kynrede were more sekir and stedefast 
than the kynrede of youre adversaries, yit natheles youre 
kynrede nis but a fer '''^ kynrede, and litel sib to yow, and 

3* Qmsentynye. The Harl. Ms. reada covetynge, by an error of the scribe, 
as appears by the sequel. 

^^ (.'onstnteden. 1 have restored this reading from Ms. liansd. and the 
French original, insteud of the reading of the llarl. Ms., that ban counseil- 
ours. 

36 A fer. This is Tyrwhitt's reatliiig, which seems to a^reo better with tho 
ooDU-cst than the reading of the liarl. Ms., littl. 

28 




the kyn of yonre enemyes ben neigh sibbe to hem. And 
certes, as in that, here condicioun is bet than youres. 
Thanne let us considere also if the counseilynge of hem 
that counselled yow to take sodein vengeance, whethir it 
accorde to resoun. And certes, ye knowe wel, nay ; for as 
by right and resoun, ther may no man taken vengeaunce 
upon no wight, but the jugge that hath jurediccioun of it, 
whan it is y-graunted him to take thilke vengeaunce has- 
tily, or attemperely, as the law require th. And yit more- 
over of thilke word that Tullius clepith consentynge, 
thou schalt considre, if thy might and thy power may con- 
sente and suffice to thy wilf nines and to thy counsel lours. 
And certes, thou maist wel say, that naj^ ; for sicurly, as 
for to speke properly, we may doo no thing but oonly oon 
thing wliich we may do rightfully , and certes rightfully 
may ye take no vengeance, as of youre owne auctorite. 
Than may ye se that youre power consentith not, ne ac- 
cordith not, with youre wilfulnesse. 

" Let us now examyne the thridde poynt, that Tullius 
clepeth consequente. Thou schalt understonde, that the 
vengeance that thou purposiddest for to take, is consequent, 
and therof folweth another vengeaunce, peril, and werre, 
and other damages withoute nombre, of whiche we be not 
war, as at this tyme. And as touching the fourthe poynt, 
that Tullius clepeth engendrynge, thou schalt considre that 
this wrong which that is doon to the, is engendred of the 
hate of thin enemyes, and of the vengeaunce takinge up 
that wolde engendre another vengeaunce, and moche 
sorwe and wastyng of riches, as I sayde. Now, sire, as to 
the poynt that Tullius clepith causes, whiche that is 
the laste poynt, thou, schalt understonde that the WTong 
that thou hast receyved hath certeyn causes, whiche 
that clerkes calle orienSy and efficiens, and causa longin- 
qutti and causa propinqua, this is to say, the fer cause, 
and the neigh cause. For the fer cause is almighty God, 
that is cause of alle thinges ; the nere cause is the tlire 
enemyes ; the cause accidental was hate ; the causes mate- 
riales been the fyve woundes of thy doughter ; the cause 
formal is the maner of here werkyng, that brought in lad- 
dres and clombe in at thin wyndowes ; the cause final was 
for to sle thy doughter ] it letted nought in as moche as 
was in hem. But for to speke of the fer cause, as to what 
ende they sclial come, or what schal finally betyde of hem 
in this cause, can I not deme, but by conjectyng and by 
supposyng ; for we schul suppose, that they schul come to 
a wikked ende, bycause that the book of Decrees saith : 
Seelden, or with gret peyne, ben causes i-brought to a good 
ende, whan thay ben evyl bygonne. 



TEE TALE OF MELIBEU8. 435 



** Now, sire, if men wolde axe me, why that God suiTrede 
men to do yow this wrong and vilonye, certes 1 can not 
wel answere, as for no sothfastnes. For the apostil .saith, 
that i\ie sciences and the juggements of oure Lord (iod 
ahnyglity ben ful deepe, ther may no man comprehende 
ne 8erchen hem sufficiauntly. Natheles, by certeyn })re- 
sumpciouns andconjectinges, I holde and biUeve, that Grod, 
vvhicli that is ful of justice and of rightwisnesse, hath suf- 
fred til is to bityde, by juste cause resonable. Thy name, 
Blehbe, is to say, a man that drynketh hony. Thou hast 
y-dronke so moche hony of sweete temperel richesses and 
deh'ces and honours of this world, that thou art dronke, 
and hast forgete Jhesu Crist thy creatour ; thou hast not 
doon him such honour and reverence as the oughte to 
doone. ne thou hast nought wel taken keep to the wordes 
of Ovide,^'^ that saith. Under the hony of thy goodes of thy 
body is hid the venym that sleeth thi soule. And Salanion 
saitii, If thou have founde hony, ete of it that suflficeth ; 
for if thou ete of it out of mesure, thou shalt spewe, and be 
nedy and povere. And peraventure Crist hath the in 
despit, and hath torned away fro the his face and his eeres 
of misericorde ; and also he hath sufitred that thou hast 
ben punysshed in the maner that thou hast i-trespassed. 
Thou hast doon synne ageinst oure Lord Crist, for certes 
thi thre enemyes of mankynde, that is to say, thy flessche, 
the feend, and the world, thou liast y-suffred hem to entre 
into thin herte wilfully, by the wyndow of thy body, and 
hast nought defended thiself sufficiently agayns here as- 
sautes,*^ and here temptaciouns, so that they have woun- 
did thi soule in fyve places, this is to sayn, the dedly synnes 
that ben entred into thin herte by thy fvye wittes ; and in 
the same maner oure Lord Crist hath wolde and sullred, 
that thy thre enemyes ben entred into thin hous by tho 
wyndowes, and have i-woundid thi doughter in the for- 
sayde maner." 

" Certes," quodMelibeus, '* I se wel that ye enforce yow 
moche by wordes to overcome me, in such manere, that 1 
schal not venge me on myn enemyes, schewynge me the 
perils and the yveles that mighten falle of this vengeaunce. 
But who so Avolde considre in alle vengeaunces the periles 
and the yveles that mighten folwe of vengeaunces takynge, 
a man wolde never take vengeaunce, and that were harm; 

8' Ovide. I presume the allusiou is to Ooid. Amcxi: lib. i. el. viii. 104. 

Impia sub dulci melle veiiena latent. 

3« Assautes. The Harl. Ms. reads asctniis, aud tho Lauds. Ms. defaults. 
The reading here adopted from Tyrwhitt is authorized by tho French orig- 
inal, which has assaux. 



436 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



for by vengeaunce takynge be wikked men destruyed and 
dissevered fro the goode men. And they that have wille 
to wikkednes, restreignen here wikked purpos, whan thay 
seen the punysshyng and the chastisyng of trespasours. 

" And yit^^ say I more, that right so as a sengle persone 
synneth in taking of vengeaunce, right so the jugge syn- 
neth if he doo no vengeaunce of him that it hath deserved. 
For Senec saith thus : That maister, he saith, is good that 
reproveth schrewes.**^ And as Cassoder saith : A man 
dredeth to doon outrage, whan he woot and knoweth that 
it displeseth to the jugges and the soveraynes. And an- 
other saith : The jugge that dredeth to denien right, mak- 
eth schrewes. And seint Poul tliappostoil saith in his 
epistil, whan he writeth to the Romayns : The jugges 
bere not the spere withoute cause, but they beren it t<> 
punysshe the schrewes and mysdoers, and for to defende 
with the goode men. If ye wol take vengeaunce on youre 
enemyes, ye schul retourne or have recours to the jugges, 
that have jurediccioun upon hem, and he schal punissche 
hem, as the lawe axeth and requiretli." "A I" quod 
Mehbeus, " this vengeaunce hketh me no thing. I by- 
thenke me now, and take heed, how fortune hath noris- 
sched me fro my childhode, and hath holpe me to passen 
many a strayt passage ; now wol 1 aske her that sche 
schal, with Goddes help, helpe me my scliame for to 
venge." 

" Certes," quod Prudence, "if ye wil wirche by my 
counseil, ye schul not assaye fortune by no maner way, ne 
schul not lene ne bowe unto hire, after the word of Senec ; 
for thinges thatbeth folly, and that beth in hope of fortune, 
schul never come to good ende. And as the same Senek 
saith : The more cleer and the more schynyngethat fortune 
is, the more brutil, and the sonner breketh sche. So 
trusteth, nought in hire, for sche is nought stedefast ne 
stable : for whan thou wenest or trowest to be most seur 
of hir help, sche wol fayle and deceyve the. And wher as 
ye say, that fortune hath norisshed yow fro your child- 
hode, 1 say that in so mochel ye schul the lasse truste in 

3c And yit. The commencement of this paragraph, which is very neces- 
sary for the sense, is not found in Chaucer's translation in any of the luss. 
In the French original it stands thus :— " Et k ce respont dame i'nidcuce 
' Certes,' dist-elle, ' je t'octroye que de veugence vient molt de maulx et de 
biens, mais vengeuce n'appartient pas & uu chasrun, fors seulemeiit aux 
juges, et ^ ceux qui ont la juridiction sur les nialfaitteurs. Et dil plus 
que,'" &c. , . a. • 

40 For Senec . . . skrcwes. I give this reading, adopted by Tyrwhitt, in 
Btead of that of the Harl. Ms., lie that maister is, he saith good to irprov- 
Shrewes; which neither olfers any apparent sense, nor represents the French 
original, " Car Seuesque dit, Celiui nuit aux bons qui esparguo les mauvis.". 



TEE TALE OF MELIBEU8. 487 



hire and in hire witte. For Senek eaith : What man (hat 
is norissched by fortune, sche niaketh him to gret a fr)ol. 
Now yiththe ye desire and axe vengeaunce, and the ven° 
geaiince that is doon after the lawe and byforne the juj^gc 
ne liketh yow nought, and the vengeaunce that is doon'-'^ 
in hope of fortune, is perilous and uncerteyn, thanne 
haveth ye noon other remedye, but for to have recour^' 
unto the soveraigne jugge, that vengith alle vilonies and 
wronges ; and he schal venge yow, after that himself wit- 
nesseth, where as he saith : Leveth the v^engeaunce to mo, 
and I schal yelde it." Melibeus answerd : " If I ne venge 
me nought of the vilonye that men have doon unto me. I 
schal sonnere warne hem that nan doon to me that vil- 
onye, and alle othere, to do me another vilonye. For it is 
writen : If thou tak no vengeaunce of an old vilonye, thou 
eomnest thin adversarie do the a newe vilonye. And also, 
for my suffraunce, men wolde do me so moche vilonye, 
that I mighte neither here it ne susteyne it ; and so schulde 
I be put over lowe. For men say, in moche sufferynge 
schal many thinges falle unto the, wliiche thou schal t 
nought nowe sutlre." "Certes," quod Prudence, " [ 
graunte yow wel, that over mochil suffraunce is nought 
good, but yit folwith it nought therof, that every jjersone 
to whom men doon vilonye, take of it vengeaunce. For it 
appertieneth and longeth al oonly to the jugges, for thay 
schul venge the vilonyes and injuries ; and therefore the 
auctoritees that ye have sayd above been oonly under- 
stonden in the jugges ; for whan thay suffre to mochil tlio 
wronges and the vilonyes that ben doon withoute punys- 
shyng, thay somne not a man oonly to doo newe v/ronges, 
but they comaunde it. Also the wise man saith : The 
jugge that correcteth not the synnere, comaundech him 
and byddith him doon another synne. And the jugges 
and sovereignes mighten in here lond so mochil suffren of 
the schrevves and mysdoeres, that thay schulde by such 
suffraunce, by proces of tyme, wexen of suche power and 
might, that thay schulde put out the jugges and the sove- 
reignes from here places, and atte laste do hem lese here 
lordschipes. But lete us now putte, that ye han leve to 
venge yow ; I say ye ben nought of might ne power as 
now to venge you ; for if ye wolde make comparison n as 
CO the might of youre adversaries, ye schulde fynde in 
ni'riny thinges, that I have i-schewed yow er this, that here 

*• After the lawe . . . that ia doon. These words are omitted in the Ifarl. 
Ms. by an evident error of the scribe, who skipped from the lirsL doon to the 
second. Tlioy have their representative in the original French, and are her© 
given from the Lauds. Ma, 



438 TBE CANTERBURY TALES. 

condicioiin is better than yonres, and therfore say I, that 
it is good as now, that ye suffre and be pacient. 

" Fortherniore ye knowe that after the comune sawe, it 
is a woodnesse, a man to stryve with a strenger or a more 
mighty man than him selven is ; and for to stryve with a 
man of evene strengthe, that is to say, with as strong a 
man as he is, it is peril ; and for to stryve with a weykere, 
is folye ; and therfore schulde a man fle stryvynge as 
moche as he mighte. For Salamon seith : It is a gret wor- 
schipe, a man to kepe him fro noyse and stryf. And if it 
so bifalle or happe that a man of gretter might and 
strengthe than thou art, do the grevaunce, studie and 
busye the rather to stille the same grevaunce, than for to 
venge the. For Senec saith, he putteth him in a greto 
peril that stryveth with a gretter man than he him selveu 
is. And Catoun^^ saith : If a man of heiher estat or degro, 
or more mighty then thou, do the anoye or grevaunce, 
suffre him ; for he that oones don the a grievaunce, may 
another tyme relieve the and helpe the. 

" Yit sette I a caas, ye have both might and licence for 
to venge yow, I say ther ben ful many thinges that schulde 
restreigne yow of vengeaunce takynge, and make yow to 
encline to suffre, and to have pacience of the wronges that 
han ben doon to yow. First and forward, ye wol considre 
the defautes that been in youre owne persone, for whiclie 
defautes God hath suffred yow to have this tribulacioun, 
as I have sayd yow herbyfore. For the poete saith. We 
oughten paciently to suffre the tribulacioun that cometh 
to us, whan that we thenken and consideren, that we han 
deserved to have hem. And seint Gregorie saith, tliat 
whan a man considereth wel the nombre of his defautes. 
and of his synnes, the peynes and the tribulaciouns that 
he suffereth semen the lasse unto him. And in as moclie 
as him thenkith his synnes the more hevy and grevous, in 
so moche his peyne is the lighter and more esier unto 
him. Also ye oughten to encline and bowe your herte, to 
take the pacience of oure Lord Jhesu Christ, as saith seint 
Peter in his Epistles. Jhesu Crist, he seith, hath suffred 
for us, and given ensample unto every man to folwe and 
sewe him, for he dede never synne, ne never cam vileyns 
worde out of his mouth. Whan men cursed him, he 
cursed hem not; and whan men beete him, he manased 
hem not. Also the grete pacience which that seintes that 
been in Paradys han had in tribulaciouns that thay havo 

«» Catoun. Lib. iv. dist. 40 :— 

** Cede locum Isesus, fortunae cede potentis ; 
Laedere qui potuit, prodesse aliquaudo valebit." 



TTJE TALE OF :SfKLIBFATS. 439 



had and suffred withoute desert or gult, ougrhte moche 
8tire yow to pacience. Forthermore, ye schuld enforce 
yow to have pacience, considerinj^e that the tribulaciouns 
of this world but htel while enduren, and soon passed ben 
and goon, and the joye that a man secheth to have by 
pacience in tribulaciouns is perdurable ; after that the 
.apostil seith in his Epistil : the joye of God, he saith, is 
perdurable, that is to say, evermore lastynge. Also troweth 
and believeth stedefastly, that he is not wel norisched and 
taught, that can pought have pacience, or wil nought re- 
ceyve pacience. For Salamon saith, that the doctrine and 
the w'itte of a man is i-knowe by pacience. And in another 
place he seith : He that hath pacience governeth him by 
gret prudence. And the same Salamon seith, that the 
wrathful and the angry man maketh noyses, and the 
pacient man attempereth and stilleth him. He seith also : 
It is more worth to be pacient than for to be right strong. 
And he that may have his lordschipe of his oughne herte, 
is more worth and more to preise than he that by his force 
and by his strengthe taketh grete citees. And therfore 
saith seint Jame in his Epistil, that pacience is a gret vertu 
of perfeccioun." 

*' Certes," quod Melibeus, *' I graunte yow, dame Pru- 
dence, that pacience is a grete vertue of perfeccioun ; '^^ but 
every man may not have the perfeccioun that ye sekyn, lie 
I am not of the nombre of right party te men ; for myn 
herte may never be in pees, unto the tyme it be venged. 
And al be it so, that it was a gret peril to myne enemyes to 
don me a vilonye in takinge vengeaunce upon me, yit 
tooken thay noon lieede of the peril, but fulfilden hero 
wikked desir and her corrage ; and therfore me thenketh 
men oughten nought repreve me, though I putte rv.Q in a 
litel peril for to venge me, and though I do a gret excesse, 
that is to say, that 1 venge oon outrage by another." 

" A ! " quod dame Prudence, " ye say youre will and as 
yow likith ; but in noon caas in the world a man ue schulde 
nought doon outrage ne eicesse for to venge liim. For 
Cassidore saith, as evel doth he that avengith him by 
outrage, as he that doth the outrage. And therfore y« 
schul venge yow after the ordre of right, that is to sayn, by 
the lawe, and nought by excesse, ne by outrage. And also 
if ye wil venge yow of the outrage of youre adversaries, in 
other maner than right comaundeth, ye synnen. And 

*3 Certes . . . perfeccioun. These words have been omitted by the scribe 
of the Harl. Ms., whose eye ran on from the word perfeccioun which cli/bee 
the preceding paragraph tu the words but every man, etc- They are her© 
reBtored from the Laned. Ms. 



440 THE CANTEBBUHY TALES. 

■ — — — ■ — ■ \\ 

therfore saith Senec, that a man sclial never venge 
schrewednes by schrewednes. And if ye say that right 
axeth a man to defende violence by vyolence, and fightyng 
by fightynge ; certes, ye say soth, whan the defence is 
doon anoon withouten intervalle, or withouten taryinge 
or dilay, for to defenden him, and nought for to venge him. 
And it bihoveth a man putte such attemperance in his 
defence, that men have no cause ne matiere to repreven 
him, that defendith him, of excesse and outrage. Parde ! 
ye knowe wel, that ye make no defence as now for to 
defende yow, but for to venge yow ; and so semeth it, that 
ye have no wille to do youre wille attemperelly ; and 
therfore me thenkith that pacience is good. For Salamon 
eaith, that he that is not pacient schal have gret harm," 
"Certes," quod MeUbeus, "I graunte you wel, that whan 
a man is impacient and wn^th of that that toucheth him 
nought, and that apperteineth nought to him, though it 
liarme him it is no wonder.** For the lawe saith, that he 
is coupable that entremettith him or mellith him with such 
thing, as aperteyneth not unto him. Ban Salamon saith. 
He that entremetteth him of the noyse or stryf of another 
man, is lik him that takith the straunge hound *^ by 
tlie eeres ; for right as he that takith a straunge hound 
by the eeres is other while biten with the hound, right in 
the same wise, it is resoun that he have harm, that by hit- 
inipacience melleth him of the noise of another man, where 
it aperteyneth not to him. But ye schul knowe wel, that 
this dede, that is to sayn, myn disease and my grief, 
toucheth me right neigh. And therfore, though I be 
wroth, it is no mervayle ; and (savynge your grace) I can 
not see that it mighte gretl}' harme me, though I toke ven- 
geaunce, for I am richer and more mighty than ujyne 
enemyes been ; and wel knowe ye, that by money and by 
havynge of grete possessiouns, ben alle the thinges of this 
world governede. And Salamon saith, that alle thinges 
obeyen to moneye." 

Whan Prudence had herd hire housbond avaunte him 
of his richesse and of his moneye,**^ dispraisynge the power 
of his adversaries, tho sche spak and sayde in this wyse : 

" of that . . . no wonder. This passage is omitted in the Harl. Ms., but 
it is restored from the Lands. Ms., supported by the French original. 

*^ the straunge lioand. The word str<iunge is omitted in tiie Harl. and 
Lansd. Mss., the latter of which is somewhat confused here. It is, however, 
evidently necessary ; the French lias " le chieii qui ne conguoist." In the 
next line the Harl i\ls. reads the Htn>iitj houiul. 

■»« H'lian Prudence . . . his moneye. Thi^ i^^ also omitted in the Harl. Ms. 
by an oversight of the scribe, who i»absed on from the word moneye at tho tjud 
oX the preceding paragraph. 



THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 441 



** Cert^p, de^fe sirp, I graunte yow that ye hen riche and 
m../hty, and that richesse is good to hem that wel have 
get3Li it, and that wel conne use it. For right as the body 
of a man may not be withoute the soule, no more may a 
njan lyve witlioiite temperel goodes, and by richesse may a 
njan gete him greet frendschipe. And therfore saith Pam- 
philles : '^^ If a neethurdes doiighter, he saith, be riche, sche 
may cheese of a thousand men, which sche wol take to hir 
housbonde j for of a thousand men oon wil not forsake hir 
ne refuse hire. And this Pamphilles seith also : If thou be 
right happy, that is to sayn, if thou be right riche, thanne 
schalt thou fynde a gret nombre of felawes and frendes ; 
and if thy fortune chaunge, that thou waxe pore, fare wel 
frendschipe, for thou schalt ben aloone withoaten eny 
companye, but if it be the compaigny-e of pore folk. And 
yit saith this Pamphillus moreover, that they that ben 
thral and bonde of linage, schuUen ben maad worthy and 
noble by richesse. And right so as by richesse ther come 
many goodes, right so by povert comen ther many harmes 
and y vels j for grete poverte constreigneth a man to doon 
njany yvels.''^ And therfore clepeth Oassidore povert the 
moder of^ ruyne, that is to sayn, the moder of over- 
throwyng or fallynge doun. And therfore saith Pieres 
Alphons : Oon of the grettest adversites of this world, is 
whan a freeman by kyn or burthe is constreigned by povert 
to eten the almes of his enemyes. And the same seith 
Innocent in oon of his bookes, that sorweful and unhappy 
is the condicioun of a povere begger, for if he axe nought 
his mete, lie deyetli for hungir, and if he axe, he dej^eth for 
scliame ; and algates the necessite constreigneth hym to 
axe. And therfore saith Salamon, that bettre is it to dey, 
than to have such povert. And as the same Salamon 
saith : Bettir is to deye on bitter deth, than for to lyve in 
such a wyse. 

"By these reasouns that I have sayd unto yow, and by 
many another resoun that I know and couthe say, I 
graunte yow that riciiesses ben goode to hem that gete hem 
wel, and to hem that hem wel usen : and therfore wol I 
schewe yow how ye schulde here yow in getyng of riches, 
and in what maner ye schulde u«e hem. First, ye schulde 

*7 Pamphilles. This poem has already been mentioned in the note on line 
11422. Tyrwhitt has given irom a Bodleian JNIs. the lines here alluded to,— 

Dumniodo sit dives cujusdam jiata bubulci, 
Eligit o niille quenilibet ilia virum, etc. 

" and yvels . . . immii yvels. The pasi-ago, omitted in the Ilarl. Ats., is 
re3tore<i from the Lansd. Ms. 

^« the modor of. Thebo throe words are omitted in the Ilarl. Mb. by an 
oversight of the ecribo The originalb is nwrc den crismes, mother of crimes. 



442 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

gete hem withoute gret desir, by good leysir, sokytigly. and 
nought over hastily ; for a man that is to desirynge for to 
gete riches, abandoneth him first to thefte and to alle 
othere yveles. And therfore saith Salanion : He tliat 
hastith him to bisyly to waxe riche, schal ben noon in- 
nocent. He saith also, that the riches tiiat hastily cometh 
to a man, soone and lightly goth and passeth fro a man, 
but that richesse that cometh alway litel and litel, waxeth 
alway and multiplieth. And, sire, ye schal gete ri(;liesse 
by youre witte and by youre travayle, unto youre profyt, 
and that withoute wrong or harm dojnge to eny other 
persone. For the lawe saith, that no man maketh him 
self riche, that doth harm to another wight ; that is to say, 
that nature defendeth and forbedith by right, that no man 
make him self riche unto the harm of another persone. 
Tullius saith, that no sorwe ne drede of detli. ne no thing 
that may falle to a man, is so moche agein-st nature, as. a 
man to encresce his oughne profyt to tlie liiit m of another 
man. And though the grete men and the riche men gete 
richesse more lightly than thou, yit schalt thou not be ydil 
ne slowe to tiiy profyt, for thou schali in alle wise flee 
ydilues. For Salamon saith, that ydelnesse techith a man 
to do many yveles. And the same Salamon saith, that he 
that travaileth and besieth him to tilye the lond, schal ete 
breed ; but he that is ydil, and casteth him to no busynesse 
ne occupacioun, schal falle into povert, and dej-e for hun- 
ger. And he that is ydel and slough, can never fynde him 
tyme for to do his profyt. Foi- ther is a versilioui- saith, 
the ydel man excuseth him in wynter, bycause of the grete 
colde, and in somer by enchesoun of the grete hete. For 
these causes, saith Catoun, waketh,^* and enclineth yow 
nought over moche for to slepe, for over moche reste nor- 
ischeth and causeth many vices. And therfore saith 
seint Jerom : Doth some goode deedes, that the devel, 
which that is oure enemy, ne fynde yow unoccupied ; 
for the devel ne takith not lightly unto his werkes 
suche as he fyndeth occupied in goode werkes. Thanne 
tiius in getynge of riches ye moot flee ydelnesse. And 
afterward ye schul use the richesses, the whiche ye han 
geten by youre witte and by youre travaile, in such a 
maner, that men holde yow not skarce ne to sparynge, ne 
to fool large, that is to say, over large a spender. For 
light as men blamen an averous man, bycause of his skar- 
sete and chyncherie, in the same manere is he to blame, 

60 tvaketh. "lean lind nothing nearer to this in Cato than the luaxuu, 
lib. iii. dist. 7, "Segnilieui lugito.' For the quotations from the same author 
a few lines below, see lib, iv. dist. 17, and lib. iii. dist. 26.— 'iyrwhitt. 



THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 443 



that spendeth over largely. And therfore saith Catoun *. 
Use, he saith, thi ri chesses that thou hast y-geten in such a 
nianere, that men have no niatier ne cause to calle the 
neither wrecche ne chyncho ; for it is gret schame to a man 
to have a pover lierte and a riche purse, lie saith also : 
The goodes that thou hast i-geten, use hem by mesure, tliat 
is to say, spende hem mosurably ; for thay that foh'ly 
wasten and spenden the goodes that thay have, whan thay 
have no more propre of hei-e oughne, thay scliape hem to 
take the goodes of another man. I say thanne ye schul 
flee avarice, usynge youre ricliesse in such manere, that 
men seyn nought that youre richesse^^ be buried, but that 
ye have hem in youre might and in youre weldynge. For 
the wise man reproveth the averous man, and saith thus in 
tuo versus : Wherto and why burieth a man his goodes by 
his gret avarice, and knowith wel, that needes most he 
deye, for deth is the ende of every man, as in this present 
lif? and for what cause or encliesoun joj'-neth he him, or 
knetteth him so fast unto his goodes, that alle his wittes 
mowe nought dissev^er him, or departe him fi-o his goodes, 
and knowith wel, or oiighte knowe wel, tliat whan he is 
deed, he schal no thing here with him out of this world? 
And therfore seith seint Austyn, that the averous man is 
likned unto helle, that the more that it swolwith, the more 
it desireth to swolwe and devoure. And as wel as ye wolde 
eschewe to be cleped an averous man or cliiuche, as wel 
schulde ye kepe yow and governe yow, in such a wise, that 
men clepe yow nought fool large. Therfore saith Tullius : 
The goodes, he saith, of thin hous schulde nought ben 
hidde ne kej^te so clos, but that thay might ben opened by 
pitt'j and by bonairetc ; "- that is to sayn, to give hem part 
that han gret neede ; ne thy goodes scluil not be so open, 
to be every mannes goodes. 

" Aftirward, in getynge of youre richessos, and in usyng(» 
hem, ye schul alway have thre thinges in youre herte, that 
is to say, oure lord(jrod, conscience, and good name. First, 
ye schul have God in youi'e herte, and for no riches ye 
scliul in no manere doo no thing which might displese God 
tliat is your creatour and youre maker. For after the 
word of Salamon, it is better to have litil good with love of 
God, than to have mochil good and tresor, and lese the 
love of his lord God. And the prophete saith : Better is to 

61 men seyn nought that youre richesse. These words, omitted in tlie Harl. 
Ms., are restored from the Lansd. Ms. 

''2 bonairete. Tlds syeins lo be altogether an Kiiglish form of the word, 
and occurs elsewliere in English writers. The Fren<;i» had only (Icbonnaire. 
Tyrwhilt here reads (txbouaircti'e, and tlie French original has " que pitie et 
debouuairete ue les puissenl ouvrir." 



444 THE CANTEBBUTtY TALES. 



ben a good man, and have litel good and tresore, than to 
ben holden a schrewe, and have gret riches. And yit say 
I forthermore, that ye schuln alway doon youre businesse 
to gete yow riches, so that ye gete hem with good con- 
science. And the apostil seith, ther nys thing in this world 
of which we schuln have so gret joye, as whan oure con- 
science bereth us good witnes. And the wise man saith : 
The substannce of a man is ful good, whan synne is not in 
his conscience. Afterward, in getynge of youre richesses, 
and in usynge of hem, you most have gret busynesse and 
gret diligence, that youre good name be alway kept and 
conserved. For Salamon saith : Better it is, and more 
aveylith a man, for to have a good name, than for to have 
gret riches. And therfore he saith in another place : Do 
gret diligence, saith Salamon, in kepynge of thy frend, and 
of thy good name, for it schal lenger abyde with the, than 
eny tresor, be it never so precious. And certes, he schulde 
nought be cleped a gentil man, that aftei* God and good 
conscience, alle thinges left, ne doth his diligence and 
busynesse, to kepe his good name. And Cassidore saith, 
that it is signe of a good man and a gentil, or of a gentil 
herte, whan a man loveth or desire th to have a good name. 
And therfore saith seint Augustyn, that ther ben tuo 
thinges that ben necessarie and needful ; and that is good 
conscience and good loos ; that is to sayn, good conscience 
in thin oughne persone in-ward, and good loos of thin 
neghebor out- ward. And he that trusteth him so moche in 
his good conscience, that he despiseth and settith at nought 
his good name or loos, and rekketh nought though he kepe 
uoi his good name, nys but a cruel churl. 

" Sire, now have I schewed yow how ye schulde doon in 
getyng of good and riches, and hoAv ye schulde use hem ; I 
see wel that for the trust that ye have in youre riches, ye 
wolde meve werre and bataile. I counseile you that ye 
i)ygynne no werre in trust of youre riches, for thay suflfisen 
not werres to mayntene. And therfore saitli a philosophre : 
That man that desireth and wol algate have werre, schal 
never have sufficeaunce ; for the richere that he is, the 
gretter dispenses most he make, if he wol have worschipe 
or victorie. And Salamon saith : The gretter riches that a 
man hath, the moo despendours he hath. And, deere sire, 
'aA be it so that for youre riches ye mowe liav-^e moche folk, 
yit byhoveth it not ne it is not good to bygynne werre, ther 
as ye may in other maner have pees unto youre worschipe 
and profyt ; for the victorie of batailles that ben in this 
world, htti not in gret nombre or multitude of poeple, ne 
in vertu of man, but it iith in the wille and iu the hond of 



TTIK TALE OF MELIBEUS. 445 

oure lord God almighty. And Judas Machabeus, which 
was Goddes knight, whan he schulde fighte ageinst his ad- 
versaries, that hadde a gretter nonibre and a gretter jtiul- 
titude of folk and strengere than was the poeple of this 
Machabe, yit he reconforted his litel poeple, and sayde 
ryghtin this wise: As lightly, quod he, may oure lord God 
almighty give victory to fewe folk, as to many folk ; ^^ fQp 
the victorio of batailles cometh nought by the grete nombre 
of poeple, but it cometh fro oure lord God of heven. And, 
dere sire, for as moche as ther is no man certeyn, if it be 
worthi that God give him victorie or nought, after that 
that Salamon saith, therfore every man schulde gretly 
drede werres to bygynne. And bycause that in batailles 
falle many mervayles and periles, and happeth other 
while, that as soone is the gi'ete man slayn as the litel 
man ; and, as it is writen in the secounde book of Kynges, 
the deedes of batayles be aventurous, and no thing cer- 
teyn, for as lightly is oon hurt with a spere as another ; 
and for ther is gret peril in werre, therfore schulde a man 
flee and eschewe werre in as moche as a man may goodly. 
For Salamon saith : lie that loveth peril, schal falle in 
peril." 

After that dame Prudens hadde spoke in this maner, 
BtlGlibu answerde and sayde: '* I se wel, dame, that by 
youre faire wordes and by youre resouns, that ye have 
schewed me, that the werre liketli yow no thing ; but I 
have not yit herd youre counseil, how I schall doo in this 
neede." " Certes," quod sche, ''I counseile yow that ye 
accorde with youre adversaries, and that ye have pees with 
hem. For seint Jame saith in his Epistles, that by con- 
cord and pees, the smale ryches wexen grete, and by de- 
baat and discord the gret richesses fallen doun. And ye 
knowe wel, that oon of the moste grettest and soveraign 
thinges that is in this world, is unite and pees. And ther- 
fore saith oure lord Jliesu Crist to hisaposteles in this wise : 
Wel happy and blessed be thay that loven and purchacen 
pees, for thay ben called children of God." ^* *' A ! " quod 
Melibo, '* now se I wel, that ye loven not myne honour, nc; 
my worschipe. Ye knowe wel that myne adversaries hau 
bygonne this debate and brige by here outrage, and ye see 
wel that thay require ne praye me not of x>ees, ne thay 
askyn nought to be recounseild ; wol ye thanne that I 

63 aa to viany folk. These words are omitted in the Hurl. Ms., evidently 
by a mere oversiglit of the scribe. 

6* God. The Harl. Ms. reads Crist; but the reading adopted in the tesl 
\b not only supported l)y the l^ftnsd. Ms. and the original French, but by the 
wordfl of St. Matthew v. 9 : " lioati pacilici, quoniam jiiii Dti. vocabuutur." 



4JG THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



ij;oG and meke me unto hem, and crie hem mercy? For 
sotue that were not my worschipe ; for ri^ht as men seyn, 
that over gret pryde engendreth dispisyng, so fareth it by 
to gret hnmbletd or mekenes." Thanne bygan dame Pru- 
dence to make stmblant of wraththe, and sayde : " Certes, 
sh-e, save youro grace, I love youre honour and youre profyt, 
as i doo niyn uwne, and ever have doon ; ye ne mowe 
noon other seyn ; and yit if I hadde sayd, ye scholde have 
purchaced pees and the reconcihacioun, I ne hadde not 
nioclie mystake in me, ne seyd amys. For the wise man 
saith : The discencioun bigynneth by another man, and the 
reconsilynge bygynneth by thy self. And the prophete 
saith : Flee schame and schrewednesse and doo goodnesse ; 
Beeke pees and fo'lwe it, as moche as in the is. Yet seith 
he not, that ye schul rather pursewe to youa^e adversaries 
for pees, than thei schul to yow ; for I knovve wel that ye 
he so bard-heited, that ye wil doo no thing for me ; and 
Sa'amon saith : iie that is over hard-herted, atte laste he 
fichal iiiyshappe and njystyde." 

Whan Melibe had seyn dame Prudence make seu)- 
blaunce of v/raththe, be sayde in this wise : " Dame, I pray 
yow tl)at yo be not dispiesed of thinges that I say, for ye 
knoweth wel . that I am angry and wroth, and that is no 
wonder ; and thay that ben wroth, wot not wel what thay 
doon, ne what thay say. Therfore the prophete saith, that 
troublit eyeu have no cleer sight. But sayeth and coun- 
saileth me forth as yow liketh, for I am redy to doo right 
as ye wol desire. And if ye reprove me of my folye, I am 
tne more holde to love yow and to prayse yow. For Sala- 
mon saith, that he that repreveth him that doth folie, he 
schal fynde gretter grace than he that deceyveth him by 
svvete wordes." Thanne sayde dame Prudence : *' 1 make no 
semblaut of wraththe ne of anger, but for youre grete 
profyt. For Salamon saith : He is more worth that reprov- 
lith or chydeth a fool for his folie, schewynge him semblant 
of wraththe, than he that supporteth him and prayseth 
hini in his mysdoyng, and laugheth at his folie. And this 
same Salamon saith afterward, that by the sorweful visage 
of a njan, that is to sayn, by sory and hevy countenaunce 
of a man, the fool corretteth himself and amendeth." 
Thanne sayde Melibeus : " I schal not conne answere to so 
many faire resouns as ye putten to me and schewen .; say- 
eth schortly youre wille and youre counseil, and I am ai 
redy to fulfille and perfourme it." 

T}iaiine dame Prudence discovered al hirecounsail and 
hire will unto him and sayde : *' I '♦-ounseile yow," quod 
Bche, " above alle thinges, that ye make pees bitwen God 



THE TALE OF MELIBEU8. 44" 



and yow, and beth reconsiled unto him and to his jjrace, for 
a8 I have sayd yow horbiforn, (iod hath suffred yow have 
this tribiilacioun and disease ^^ for youre synnes ; and if 
ye do as 1 say yow, God wol sende youre adversaries unto 
yow, and make hem falle at youre feet, al redy to doo youre 
Aviile and youre coniaundment. For Salamon saith : Whan 
the condicioun of a man is plesant and likyng to God, he 
cnaungeth the hertes of the niannes adversaries, and con- 
streigiieth hem to biseke hem of pees and of gra(3e. And I 
pray yow let nie speke with youre adversaries in prive 
place, for thay schul not knowe it by youre wihe or youro 
assent ; ^'' cand thanne, whan I knowe here wille and here 
entent, 1 may counseile yow the more seurly." 

" Dame," quod Melibeus, " doth youre wille and youre 
iikyn}^, for 1 putte me holly in youre disposicioun and ordi 
naunce." Thanne dame Prudence, whan sche seih the 
irood wille of hir housbond, sche delibered and took avis 
by hir self, thenkynge how sche mighte bringe this neede 
unto good conclusioun and to a good ende. And whan 
sche saugh hire tyme, sche sente for these adversaries to 
come unto hire into a prive place, and schewed wysly unto 
hem the grete goodes that comen of x>ees, and the grete 
narmes and perils that ben in werre ; and sayde to hem, 
in goodly manere, how that hem aughte to have gret re- 
pentaunce of the injurie and wrong that thay hadde doon 
to Melibe hire lord, and unto hire and hire doughter. And 
whan thay herden the goodly wordes of dame Prudence, 
they were tho surprised and ravyssched, and liadden so gret 
joye of hire, that wonder was to telle. " A lady ! " quod 
thay, *' ye have schewed unto us the blessyng of swetnes, 
after the sawe of David the prophete ; for the recounsilyng, 
which we be nought worthy to have in no manere, but we 
oughten require it with gret contricioun and humilite, 
ye of youre grete goodnes have presented unto us. Isow 
we se wel, that the science of Salamon is ful trewe : he 
fe*aith, that swete wordes multiplien and encrescen frendes,' 
and maken schrewes to ben debonaireand meke. Certes," 
({uod thay, " we putten oure deede, and al oure matier and 
cause, al holly in youre good wille, and ben redy to obeye 
to the speclie and to the comaundement of my lord Melibe. 
And therfore, deere and benigne lady, we pray yow and 
byseke yow, as meekely as we conne and may, that it like 

66 Tribulacioun and disease. The Ilarl. Ms. ouiits the two first words, 
which are given from the Laiuls. Ms. The French original has ceste tribula- 
ckm only. 

66 /-'or thay schul not knowe . . . youre assent. "Saus faire seniblant que 
ce vieuguc de vostre coneenteinent." 



448 TEE CANTEUBUkY TAlM. 



to yowre grete goodnes to fulfille in deede youre goodliche 
wordes. For we considere and knowleche wel that we 
have offended and greved my lord Mehbe out of resoun 
and out of inesure, so ferforth that we ben nought of 
power to make his amendes ; and therfore we obhe us and 
bynde us and oure frendes, for to doo al his wille and his 
comaundmentz. But peraventure he hath such hevynes 
and such wraththe to usward, bycause of oure offence, that 
he wol enjoy ne us such peyne as we mow not here ne sus- 
teyne ; and therfore, noble lady, we biseke to youre wom- 
manly pite to take such avysement in this neede, that we, 
ne oure frendes, ben not disherited and destroyed thurgh 
oure folyc." " Certes," quod dame Prudence, " it is an 
hard thing, and right a perilous, that a man put him al 
outrely in the arbitracioun and juggement and the might 
and power of his enemyes. For Salamon saith : Leeveth 
and giveth credence to that that I schal say : I say, quod 
he, geve poeple and governours of holy chirche,^^ to thy 
sone, to tlii wyf, to thy frend, ne to thy brother, ne geve 
thou never might ne maystry of thy body, whil thou lyv- 
est. Now, sith he defendith that a man schulde not give 
to his brother, ne to his frend, the might of his body, by a 
strenger resoun he defendeth and forbedith a man to give 
his body to his enemye. But natheles, I counseile yow 
that ye mystruste nought my lord ; for I wot wel and 
knowe verraily, that he is debonaire and meke, large, cur- 
teys, and no thing desirous ne coveytous of good ne rich- 
esse : for there is no thing in this world that he desire th, 
save oonly worschipe and honour. Forthermore I know^e, 
and am right seure, that he wol no thing doo in this neede 
withoute counsail of me ; and I schal so worche in this 
cause, that by the grace of oure lord Gfod ye schul be re- 
counsiled unto us." Thanne sayde thay, with oon voys : 
*' Worschipful lady, we putte us and oure goodes al fully 
in youre wille and disposicioun, and ben redy to come, 
what day that it like yow and unto youre noblesse to 
limite us or assigne us, for to make oure obligacioun and 
bond, as strong as it liketh to youre goodnes, that we mowe 
fulfille the wille of you and of my lord Melibe." Whan dame 
Prudence had herd the answeresof thise men,schebad hem 
go agayn pry vely, and sche retourned to hir lord Mehbe, and 
tolde him how sche fond his adversaries ful repentant, 

" / say, quod he, geve pocnle and '/ort'inintirs of holy chirehe' These worda 
are not fouud in the Lausa. Ais., :iiui ;ire oiuitted by Tyrwhitt. Tliey are 
confused ; but the word heed or ear appears to be omitted after yeve. The 
French has, " Car Salmon dit, oiez moy,di8t-il, tous peuples, toutes gens et 
eouvemeurr. ie gloire, ^ ton filz," &c. 



THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 449 



knowlechinge ful lowely here synnes and trespasses, and 
how thay were redy to suffre alle peyne, requiring and 
prayinj^C hi'n of mercy and pite. 

Thanno saido Melibeus, " He is wel worthy to have par- 
doiin and forj^cvenes of his synne, that excusith not his 
synne, but knowlecheth and repentith him, axinge indul. 
gence, For Senek saith : Tlier is the remissioun and for- 
gevenesse, wher as the confessioun is ; for confession n is 
11 'ii^hebor to innocence. And he saith in another place, 
He that hath schame of his synne, knowlechith it. And 
tlierefore I assente and conferme me to have pees, but it is 
good that we doo it nought withoute assent and the wille 
of oure frendes." Thanne was Prudence right ghid and 
jolyf, and sayde: " Certes, sire," quod sche, " ye ben wel 
and goodly avysed ; for right as by the counsail and as- 
sent and help of youre frendes, ye have be stired to venge 
yow and make werre, right so withoute here counseilschul 
ye nought acorde yow ne have pees with youre adversaries. 
For the la we saith : Ther nys no thing so good by way of 
kinde, as thing to be unbounde by him that it was Ijounde." 
And thanne dame Prudence, withoute delay or taryirige, 
sente anoon messageres for here kyn and for here olde 
frendes, whi(;he that were trewe and wyse ; and told hem 
by ordro, in the presence of Melibe. of tbis matier, as it is 
above expressed and declared ; and praide hem that thay 
wolde give here avysand counseil what best were to doon 
in this matiere. And whan Melibeus frendes hadde take 
here avys and deliberacioun of the forsayde matier, and 
hadden examyned it by greet besynes and gret diligence, 
they gafe him ful counsail to have pees and reste, and that 
Melibeus schulde with good hert resceyve his adversaries to 
forgivenes and mercy. 

And whan dame Prudence had herd thassent of hirlord 
Melibeus, and counseil of his frende;=;accorde with hire wille 
and hire entencioun, sche was wonderly glad in liorte, and 
sayde: "Ther is an olde proverbe that saith, the good- 
nesse that thou maist do this day abyde not ne delaye it 
nought unto to morwe ; and therfore 1 counseile yow ye 
sende youre messageres, whiche that ben discrete and wise, 
unto youre adversaries, tellynge hem on youre bihalve, 
that if thay wol trete of pees and of accord, that thay 
schape hem withoute dilay or taryin-^e to come unto us." 
Which thing was i)avformed in dede ; and whan these tres- 
pasours and repentynge folk of here folies, that is to sayn, 
the adversaries of IMelibe, hadden herd what the messan- 
geres sayden unto hem, tbay were right glad and joiif, and 
^/Uswerden ful mekely and iX'nignely, yeldyng graces and 



450 THE CANTERBUBY TALES. 

thankinges to horo lord Melibc', and to al his compaig^nye ; 
and schope hem withoute delay to go with the messan^:eres, 
and obeye hem to the comaundement of here lord Melibe. 
And right anoon thay token here way to the court of 
Melibe, and token with hem some of here trewe frendes, to 
make faith for hem, and for to ben here borwos. And 
whan thay were comen to the presence of Mclibeiis, he seyde 
hem Ihise wordes : "It stondith thus," quod Melibeus, 
*' and soth it is, that ye causeles, and withouten skile and 
resoun, have doon gret injuries and wronges to me, and to 
my wyf Prudence, and to my doughter also, for ye have 
entred into mynhous by violence, and have doon such out- 
rage, that alle men knowe wel that ye have deserved the 
detli ; and therfore wil I knowe and wite of yow, whether 
you wol putte the punyschment and the chastisement and 
the vengeaunce of this outrage, in the wille of me and of 
my wyf, dame Prudence, or ye wil not.." Thanne the 
wisest of hem thre answerde for hem alle, and sayde : 
" Sire," quod he, " we knowe wel, that we be unworthy to 
come to the court of so gret a lord and so worthy as ye be, 
for we han so gretly mystake us, and have offendid and 
giltid in such a wise ageins youre heighe lordschipe, that 
trewely we have deserved the deth. But yit for the greete 
goodnes and debonairete that al the world witnesseth of 
youre persone, we submitten us to the excellence and be- 
nignite of youre gracious lordschipe, and ben redy to obeye 
to alle youre comaundementz, bisechynge yow that of youre 
merciable pite ye wol considre our grete repentaunce and 
lowe submissioun, and graunte us forgivenes of oure out- 
rage, trespas, and offence. For wel we knowen, that youre 
liberal grace and mercy strechen forthere into goodnesse 
than doth oure outrage, gilt, and trespas, into wikkednes ; 
al be it that cursedly and dampnably wehaveagilt ageinst 
youre highe lordschipe." Thanne Melibe took hem up fro 
the ground ful benignely, and resceyved here obligaciouns, 
and here bondes, by here othes upon here plegges and 
borwes, and assigned hem a certeyn day to retourne unto 
his court for to acccpte and recey ve the sentence and jug- 
gement that Melibe wolde comaunde to be doon on hem, 
by these causes aforn sayde ; which thing ordeyned, every 
man retourned home to his hous. And whan that dame 
Prudence saugh hire tyme, sche freyned and axed hire lord 
Melibe, what vengeance he though te to take upon his ad- 
versaries. To which Melibeus answerd and saide : " Cer- 
tes," quod he, " I thenke and purpose me fully to des- 
herite hem of al that ev^er thay have, and for to putte hem 
in exil for evermore," 



THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 451 

"Certes," quod dame Prudence, *' this were a cruel 
sentence, and niochil ageinst resoun. For ye ben riche 
y-nough, and have noon neede of other mennes good ; and 
ye mighte lightly gete yow a coveitous name, ^vhich is a 
vicious thing, and oughte to ben eschewed of every man ; 
for after the sawe of thapostil, covetise is roote of alle 
harmes. And therfore it were bettre for yow to lese so 
moche good of youre oughne, than for to ta'ke of here good 
in this manere. For bettir it is to lese good with worschipe, 
than it is to wynne good with vilonye and Fchame. And 
every man oughte to do his diligence and his 1 usynesse, to 
gete him a good name. And yit schal he nought oonly 
busie him in kepinge of his good name,^*^ but he schulde en- 
force him alway to do som thing, by which he n;ay re- 
novele his good name ; for it is writen, that the olde gcode 
loos of a man is soone goon and passed, whan it is not 
newedne renoveled. And as touchinge that ye sayn, that 
ye wol exile youre adversaries, that thinketh me^ mochil 
ageinst resoun, and out of niesure, considered the power 
that thay han gyve to yow upon here body and on hem 
self. And it is writen, that he is .vrorthy to lese his privel- 
ege, that mysuseth the might and the power that is geveto 
him. And yit I sette the caas, ye might enjojme hem that 
peyne by right and lawe (which I trowe ye mow nought 
do), I say, ye mighte nought putte it to execucioun per- 
aventure, and thanne were it likly to tome to the werre, as 
it was biforn. And therfore if ye wol that miCn do yow 
obeissauDce, ye moste deme more curteisly, tliat is to sayn, 
ye moste give more esyere sentence and juggement. For it 
is writen: He that most curteysly comaundeth, to him 
men most obeyen. And therefore I pray yow, that in this 
necessite and in this neede ye caste yow to overcome youre 
herte. For Senek saith, he that overcometh his herte, 
overcometh twyes. And TuUius saith : Ther is no thing 
so comendable in a gret lord, as whan he is debonaire aid 
meeke, and appesith him lightly. And I pray yow, that 
ye wol forbere now to do vengeaunce, in such a manere, 
that youre goode name may be kept and conserved, aiid 
that men mo we have cause and matiere to prayse yow of 
pite and of mercy ; and that ye have noon cause to repente 
yow of thing that ye doon. For Senec oaith : He over- 
cometh in an evel manere, that repenteth him of his vic- 
torie. Wherfore I pray yow let mercy be in youre herte, 
to theffect and thentent, that God almighty have mercy 
and pite upon yow in his laste juggement. For seint Jamo 

"^ And iiit schal . . . (jood name. Tliis passage, omitted iu the Harl. Ms., 
IH restored from the Lansd. Ms. 



452 THE CANTERBUBY TALES. 

eaith in his Epistil : judgement withoute mercy schal be 
doon to him, that hath no mercy of another wight." 

Whan MeUbe had hei-d th grete skiles and resouns of 
dame Prudens, and liir wys informacioun and techynge, 
his herte gan enclyne to the wille of his wyf, consideiyiig 
hir trewe entent, confermed him anoon and consented f uily 
to werlie after hir reed and counseil, and thankid God of 
whom procedeth al goodnes, that him sente a wife of so 
gret discrecioun. And whan tlie day cam tliat his adver- 
saries schulden appere in his presence, he spak to hem ful 
goodly, and sayde in this wise : " Al be it so, that of youre 
pryde and heigh presumpcioun and folye, and of youre neg- 
ligence and unconnynge, ye have mysbore yow, and tres- 
passed unto me, yit forasmoche as I se and biholde youre 
humilite, that ye ben sory and repentaunt of youre giltes, 
it constreigneth me to do yow grace and mercy. Wherfore 
I receyve yow to my grace, and forgeve yow outerly alio 
the otienses, injuries, and wronges, that ye have don to 
me and agayns me and myne, to this effect and to this ende, 
that God of his endeles mercy wole at the tyme of oure 
deyinge forgive us oure giltes, that we have trespased to 
him in this wrecched world ; for douteles and we ben sory 
and repentaunt of the synnes and giltes whiche we have 
trespassed inne in the sight of oure lord God, he is so free 
and so merciable, that he will forgive us oure gultes, and 
bringe us to the blisse that never hath ende." Ame7i. 

THE PROLOGE OF THE MONKES TALE. 

Whan ended was my tale of Melibe, 

And of Prudence and hire benignito, 

Oure hoste sayde, "As I am faithful man, 

And by the precious corpus Madryan ! 

I hadde lever than a barel ale 

That gode leef my wyf had herd this tale. 15380 

For sche is no thing of such pacience 

As was this Melibeus wyf dame Prudence. 

By Goddes boones ! whan I bete my knaves, 

Sche bringeth me forth the grete clobbet staves, 

And crieth, * slee the dogges everychon ! 

And breke of hem bothe bak and bon I ' 

And if that eny neghebour of myne 

Wol nought to my wyf in chirche enclyne, 

Or be so hardy to hir to trespace, 

Whan sche comth horn, sche rampeth in my face, 

15378. corpus Madryan. Urry explains this as referring to tliu relics 0% 
at. Malenie of Ti'eves. 



THE PROLOCE OF THE MONKES TALE. 453 

And crieth, ' false coward, wreke thy wyf I 15391 

By corpes bones ! I wil have thy kiiyf, 

And thou schalt have my distaf and go spynne.' 

Fro day to night right thus sche wil bygynne : 

' Alias ! ' sche saitli, ' that ever I was i-schape, 

To wedde a mylk-sop or a coward ape. 

That wil be over-lad with every wight ! 

Thou darst nought stonde by thy wyves right.' 

This is my lif, but if that I wil fight ; 

And out atte dore anoon I most me dight, 15400 

And ellis I am lost, but if that I 

Be lik a wilde leoun fool-hardy. 

I wot wel sche wol do me sle som day 

Som neighebor, and thanne renne away. 

For I am perilous with knyf in honde, 

Al be it that I dar not hir withstonde. 

For sche is big in amies, by my faith ! 

That schal he fynde that hire mysdoth or saith. 

But let us passe away fro this matiere. 

My lord the monk," quod he, ' be mery of chere, 

For ye schul telle a tale trewely. 13411 

Lo, Rowchestre stant heer faste by. 

Ryde forth, myn ougline lord, brek nought oure 

game ! 
But, by my trouthe, I can not youre name ; 
Whether schal I calle yow my lord dan Johan, 
Or daun Thomas, or elles dan Albon ? 
Of what hous be ye, by your fader kyii ? 
I vow to God thou hast a ful fair skyn ! 
It is a gentil pasture ther thou gosi ; 
Thow art not like a penaunt or a goost. 15420 

Upon my faith, thou art an officer, 
Some worthy sexteyn, or some celerer ; 
For, by my fader soule, as to my doome. 
Thou art a maister whan thou art at hoom. 
No pover cloysterer, ne non novys, 
But a governour bothe wily and wys ; 
Ahd therwithal of brawne and of bones 
A wel faryng persone for the noones. 
I praye God give him confusioun, 

That first the broughte to religioun ! 15430 

Thow woldist han be a trede-foul aright ; 

15424, a maister. The Harl. Ms. reads an officer, which probably slipped 
In by the negligence of a scribe, who had those words on his ear from line 
15421. The present reading is given from the J.ansd. Ms. and Tyrwhitt. 

15426. bothe. 1 have added this word as apparently necessary to the in«- 
tre, though found neither in the liarl, JNls, nor Lausd. Ms. 



454 THE CANTERBVnr TALES. 

Haddist thou as gret a leve as thou hast might 

To performe al thi wil in engendrure, 

Thow haddist bigeten many a creature. 

Alias ! why werest thou so wyd a cope ? 

God gif me sorwe ! and I were a pope, 

Nought only thou, but every mighty man, 

Though he were schore brode upon his pan, 

Schuld had a wif ; for al this world is lorn, 

Religioun hath take up al the corn 1.5440 

Of tredyng, and we burel men ben schrympes ; 

Of feble trees tlier cometh feble ympes. 

This makith that oure heires ben so sclender 

And feble, that thay may not wel engender. 

This maketh that oure wyfes wol assaye 

Religious folk, for thay may bettre pave 

Of Venus payementes than may we. 

God woot, no hisscheburghes paye ye ! 

But beth nought wroth, my lorde, though I play, 

15432. tJiou hast. These words are added from the Lansd. Ms., and seem 
necessary to the sense and metre. 

15448. iusschelmrqhcs. A somewhat similar comparison occurs in. Piers 
Ploughman, 1. 10322. 

" Ac there is a defaute in the folk 
That the f eith kepeth ; 
Wherfore folk is the febler, 
And noght ferm of bileve, 
As in hisshi'burvvs is a luther a]r>y 
And yet loketh he like a sterlyiig. 
The merk of that nionee is good, 
Ac the metal is feeble." 
In fact the coin alluded to was a base money (a luther, or bad, niajj) which 
was brought into this country in considerable quantities in the times of the 
first Edwards, and, as we see from the specimens existing, it must when new 
have easily passed for the sterling money of the English kings. The name 
appears to have been derived from its being struck at Luxemburg, by the 
counts. 

All sorts of false money appear to have been continually brought into this 
country in the mid<lle ages ; but these hisscheburghes seem to have been the 
greatest cause of annoyance. In the year 1346 the petition of the Commons 
in the parliament assembled at Westminster pointed out several mal-prac- 
tices which were supposed to be the cause of the scarcity of good money at 
that time, and began with stating, that many merchants and others canied 
the good money out of the realm^ and brought in its room false money called 
lusshebourues, which were worth only eight shillings the pound, or less ; by 
which means the importers, and they who took them at a low price to utter 
again, were suddenly, wrongfully, and beyond measure enriched ; whilst 
they who were unable to distinguish the said money were cheated and im- 
poverished, and the whole realm was fraudulently tilled with those base 
coins. In 1347, the false lusshebourues still continued to be brought into the 
kingdom in great quantities, and the Commons petitioned that the guilty 
might sutfer the punishment of drawing and hanging. In 1348, it was again 
necessary to fori id the circulation of lussheburghs ; and in 1351, the Statute 
of Purveyors wa^ passed, which (cap. 11) declares what offences shall be ad- 
judged treason, amongst which is this : if a man counterfeit the- king's seal 
on his money, and if a man bring false money into the realm, counterfeit rf 
the money of England, as the money called lushburyh, or other like to tho 
gaid money of England, etc. 



THE MONKES TALE. 



455 



For oft in panie a soth I have herd say." 
This wortliy monk took al in pacience, 
And saide, " i wol doon al my diUj^ence, 
Als fer as souneth into honeste, 
To telle yow a tale, or tuo or thre ; 
And if yow lust to herken hider-ward, 
1 wil yow say the lif of seint Edward, 
Or elles fh'st trege.dis wil I yow telle, 
Of which I have an hundred in my ceiloo 
Tre^edis is to sayn a certeyn storie. 
As olde bookes maken as memorio, 
Of hem that stood in greet prosperite, 
And is v-fallen out of heigh degre 
Into miserie, and endith wrecchedly ; 
And thay ben versifyed comunly 
Of six feet, which men clepe exanietron. 
In prose ben eek endited many oon ; 
In metre eek, in many a sondry wise ; 
Lo. this declaryng ought y-nough suffise. 
Now herkneth, if yow likith for to heere j 
But first 1 yow biseche in this matiere. 
Though 1 by ordre telle not thiso thinges, 
Be it of popes, emperours, or kynges. 
After her acce, as men may write fynde, 
But telle hem som bifore and som byhynde, 
As it cometh now to my remembraunce, 
Haveth me excused of myn ignoraunce. 



15450 



154H0 



15470 



THE MONKES TALE. 

I WOL bjnvaile, in maner of tragedye, 

The harm of hem that stood in heigh degre, 

And fallen so ther is no remedye 

To bring hem out of her adversito ; 15480 

For certeynly, whan fortune lust to flee, 

Ther may no man the cours of hir whiel liolde; 

Let no man truste in blynd prosperite, 

Beth war by these ensai: pies trewe and olde. 

1&467. I have ventured to emendate this line from tlie Lansd. Ms. The 
Ilarl. Ms. has, " And in metre eek, and in sondry wise," in which hoth sense 
and metre suiTer. , ^ . , , 

r lie Menkes Tale. This tale is evidently founded upon Boccaccio s cele- 
brated work De casilms virnrum ilhcstrium, but Chaucer has introduced the 
several stories according to his own fancy, and has often taken them from 
i.lher sources. They are not contained in the same order in all the manu- 
scripts of Chaucer. , , , ,. ... 

15l>*2. tlw cmirs of hir whiel holde. Tyrwhitt has adopted a reading which 
is far less natural and expressive, in the language of Chaucer's age. "of hire 
the course witholde." The wheel of fortune is a well-known emblem, not 
only in medieval literature, but in medieval art. 



456 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Lucifer. 

At Lucifer, though he an aungil were, 
And nought a man, at him wil 1 bygynne ; 
For though fortune may non aungel dere, 
From heigh degre yit fel ho for his synne 
Doun into helle, wher he yet is inne. 
O Lucifer ! brightest of aungels alle, 15490 

Now art thou Sathanas, thou maist nought twynne 
Out of miserie in which thou art falle. 

Adam. 

Lo Adam, in the feld of Damassene 
With (ioddes oughne fynger wrought was he^ 
And nought bigeten of niannes sperma unclene, 
And welt al paradys, savyng oon tre. 
Had never wurdly man suche degre 
As Adam, til he for mysgovernance 
Was dryven out of heigh prosperite, 
T'j labour, and to helle, and to meschaunce. 15500 

/Sampson. 

Lo Sampson, whiche that was annunciate 
By than gel, long er his nativite, 
And was to Grod Almighty consecrate. 
And stood in nobles whil that he might se. 
Was never such another as was he, 
To speke of strength, and tlierto hardynesse ; 
But to his wyfes told he his secro, 
Thurgh which he slough himselfe for wrecchidnesse. 

Sampson, this noble and myhty champioun, 
Withouten wepen save his hondes tueye, 15510 

He slow he and al to-rent the lyoun 
To- ward his weddynge walkinge be the waie. 
The false wif couthe him plese and preie 
Til sche his counseile knewe, and sche untrewe 
Unto his foos his consel gan bewreye. 
And him for-soke, and toke another newe. 

15493. Lo Adam. Adam comes first in the stories of Boccaccio. Lydgate, 
in his translation of Boccace, says of Adam and Eve,— 

" Of slime of the erth in Damascene the/elde 
God made them above eche creature." 

15501. Lo Sampson. Chaucer appears to have taken the story of Samson 
directly from the book of Judges, which, he quotes in express words a few 
lines further on. 

15509. This stan/a has been accidentallv omitted in the Harl. Ms., and is 
here iiisened from the Lausd. Ms. It represents the fourteenth chapter ol 
the book of J udges. 



fUE MONKES TALE. 457 



Thre hundred foxis took Sampson for ire, 
And alle her tayles he togider bond ; 
And sette the foxes tailes alle on fuyre, 
For he in every tail hath knyt a brond ; 15520 

And thay brent alle the cornes of that lond, 
And alle her olyvers and vynes eeke. 
A thousand men he slough eek with his hond, 
And hadde no wepen but an asses cheeke. 

Whan thay were slayn, so thursted him that he 
Was wel ner lorn, for which he gan to preye 
That God wolde of his peyne have som pite 
And send him drynk, and elles must he deye. 
And out of this asses clieke, that was so dreye, 
Out of a woung toth sprong anon a welle, 15530 

Of which he dronk y-nough, schortly to seye ; 
Thus halp him God, as Judicum can telle. 

By verray fors at Gasan, on a night, 
Maugre the Philistiens of that cite, 
The gates of the toun he hath up plight. 
And on his bak caried hem hath he, 
Heigh upon an hil, wher men might hem se. 
O noble almighty Sampson, leef and deere, 
Maddest thou nought to wommen told thy secre. 
In al the world ne hadde be thy peere. 15540 

This Sampson neyther siser dronk ne wyn, 
Ne on his heed com rasour noon ne schere, 
By precept of the messager divyn. 
For alle his strengthes in his heres were. 
And fully twenty wynter, yer by yere, 
He hadde of Israel the governaunce. 
But soone he schal wepe many a teere, 
For wymmen schuln him bringe to meschaunce. 

Unto his lemman Dalida he tolde 
That in his heres al his strengthe lay ; ^ 15550 

And falsly to his foomen sche him solde. 
And slepyng in hir barm upon a day 
Sche made to clippe or schere his heres away 
And made his foomen al his craft espien. 
And whan thay fonde him in this array, 
They bound him fast, and put out bothe his yen. 

But er his heer clipped was or i-schave, 
Ther was no bond with which men might him bynde ; 

15533. at Gasan. The Harl. Ms. reads, by an evident mistake of t:,e 
Bcrihe, of Alyason. , . ^ • 4- q^;r.LQ 

l-.r>41. neyther siser. Sicera ; a general term for other intoxicating drinks 
than wine. The Lan^d. IVls. reads slther. Tyrwhitt has substituted stiter. 

15546. Israel. I have substituted this from the other manuscripts, m 
place of Jerusalem, which is the reading of the Uarl. ISls- 



458 THE CANTERBURY TALE^. 

But now is he in prisoun in a cave, 

Ther as thay made him at the querne giynde. 15560 

O noble Sampson, strongest of al mankynde ! 

O whilom jugge in glory and in richesse ! 

Now maystow wepe with thine eyghen blynde, 

Sith thou fro wele art falle to wre(*,chednesse ? 

Thend of this caytif was, as 1 schal say. 
His foomen made a fest upon a day. 
And made him as here fool biforn hem play ; 
And this was in a temple of gret array. 
But atte last he made a foul affray ; 15570 

For ho two pilers schook, and made hem falle, 
And doun fel temple and al, and ther it lay, 
And slough liimsik and eek his fomen alle; 

This is to sayn, the princes everichon ; 
And eek thre thousand bodies were ther slayu, 
With fallyng of the grete temple of stoou. 
Of Sami)son now wil I no more sayn ; 
Be war by these ensamples, olde and playn, 
That no man telle his counseil to his wj-f, 
Of such thing as he wold Ijave secre fayn, 
If that it touche his lynxes or his life J5580 

De Ercule. 

Of Ercules, the sovereyn conquerour, 
Singen his werkes laude and heigh renoun ; 

155C0. at the querne grynde. Et clausum in carcere molere fecerunt. Jud. 
xvi. 21. 

15581. Of Ercule s. The account of the labors of Hercules is almost liter- 
ally translated from Boetbius De Consol. Philos., lib. iv. metr. 7, though 
Chancer has changed the order of s^ me of them. 

Hereulem duri celebrant laborer: 
lUe Centauros donuiit superbos; 
Abstnlit ssevo spolium leoni ; 
Fixit et certis volucres sagittis; 
Poma cernenti rapuit draconi 
Aureo Ifeva gravior metallo ; 
Cerberiim traxit triplici catena; 
Victor immitem posuisse fertnr 
Pabulum sajvis dominnm quadiigis; 
Hydra combusto periit veneno ; 
Fronte turpatus Achelous amnis 
Ora demersit pudibunda ripis ; 
Stra\ it Antheum Libycis arenis; 
Cacus Evandri satiavit iras, 
Quosque pressurus foret altus orbia 
Setiger spumis humeros notavit. 
Ultimus coelum labor irretlexo 
Sustnlit collo, pretiumque ruraus 
Ultinii c(Elunj meruit laboris. 

I restore the names from the Lausdowne Ms., as they are very incorrectly 
written in the liurl. Ms. 



THE MONKES TALE. 459 



For in his tyme of strength he bar the flour. 
He slough and rafte the skyn fro the leoun ; 
He of Centaures hiyde tlie bost adoun ; 
He Arpies slough, the cruel briddes felle ; 
The gold appul he raft fro the dragoun ; 
He drof out Cerbures the fend of helle ; 

He slough the cruel tyrant Buserus, 
And made his hors to frete him fleisch and boon ; 
He slough the verray serpent veneneus ; 15591 

Of Aehiloyus tuo homes he raft oon ; 
He slough Cacus in a cave of stoon ; 
He slough the geaunt Anteus the stronge ; 
He slough the grisly bore, and that anoon ; 
And bar the hevene upon his necke longe. 

Was never wight, siththen the world bigan, 
That slough so many monstres as dede he ; 
Thurghout the wide world his name ran, 
What for his strengthe and for his bounto, 15600 

And every roialme went he for to se ; 
He was so strong, ther might no man him lette. 
At bothe the worldes endes, as saith Troi)he, 
In stede of boundes he a piler sette. 

A lemman hadde this noble campioun, 
That highte Dejanire, freissh as May ; 
And as these clerkes maken mencioun, 
Sche hath him sent a schurte fresch and gay, 
Alas ! this schirt, alias and wailaway ! 
Envenymed was subtily withalle, 15610 

That er he hadde wered it half a day, 
It made his fleisch al fro his bones falle. 

But natheles som clerkes hir excusen, 
By oon that highte Ness.s, that it makyd. 
Be as be may, I wil nought hir accusyn ; 
But on his bak he wered this schirt al naked, 
Til that his fleisch was for the venym blaked. 

15588. (iyy)/, drew. The Land. Ms. reads drouhe. 

15595. bore. Substituted from the Laud. Ma. for leoxm, the reading of tlia 
HarL Ms. ^ 

15596. hevene. I have retained Tyrwhitt's reading, which he found in 
other MSS., because it rep.-esents the Latin of Boethius, as quoted above and 
which in Chaucer's prose version of that writer is translated thus, " And the 
last of his labors was, that he susteined the heven upon his necke unbowed." 
ihe Harl and Lansd. Mss. read the heed, evidently supposing it refers to the 
head of the bore ; the primed editions, with the same notion, road "and bare 
Lis bed upon his spere longe." 

- I'yngp. It may be observed that the final e marks the adverbial form 

ot the word : it is not " upon his long neck," but " long upon his neck." One 
of the MSS. used by Tyrwhitt contains the Latin marginal glo-^s trni. 

15603 Tropke. It is not clear to what writer Chaucer intended to refer 
under this name. In the margin f)f one of tlu; Cambridge Mss. collated by 
lyrwUitt, we tiud the gloss Ille oatts i'halduiurum Tropheue. 



460 THE CANTEUnunr TALES. 



And whan he saugh noon other remedj^e, 

In hote coHs he hath himself i-raked , 

For no venym deyned hhn to dye. 15620 

Thus starf this mighty and worthy Eicules. 
Lo ! who may truste fortune enj^ thro we ? 
For him that folweth al this world of pres 
Er he be war, is oft y-layd ful lowe. 
Ful wys is he that can himselven knowe ! 
Be war, for whan that fortune lust to glose, 
Than waytith sclie hir man to overthrowe, 
By suche way as he wolde lest suppose. 

JDe rege Ndbugodonosor. 

The mighty trone, the precious tresor, 

The glorious ceptre and real mageste, 15630 

That had the king Nabugodonosore,- 

With tonge unnethes may descry ved be. 

He twyes wan Jerusalem that cite ; 

The vessel out of the temple he with him ladde ; 

At Babiloyne was his sovereyn see, 

In which his glorie and his delyt he ladde. 

The fairest children of the blood roial 
Of Israel he dede gelde anoon. 
And made ylk of hem to ben his thral ; 
Amonges othre Daniel was oon, 15640 

That was the wisest child of everychoon. 
For he the dremes of the king expouned, 
Ther as in Caldeyn was ther clerkes noon 
That wiste to what fyn his dremes souned. 

This proude king let make a statu of gold, 
Sixty cubites long and seven in brede, 
To which ymage bothe yonge and olde 
Comaunded he to love and have in drede. 
Or in a fornays ful of flames rede 

He schulde be brent that wolde not obeye. 15650 

But never wolde assente to that dede 
Danyel ne his felawes tweye. 

This king of kinges preu was and elate ; 
He wende God that sit in mageste 
Ne nn'ght him nought bireve of his estate. 
But sodeynly he left his dignite, 
I-lik a best him semed for to be, 
And eet hay as an oxe, and lay ther-oute 

15r,53. prpu was and elate. I have added the conjunction from Tyrwhitt, 
who reads proud toas an elate- 



THE MONKES TALE. 461 



In rayn, with wilde bestes walkjd he. 
Til certein tyme was i-come aboute. 

And ilk an eglis fetheres were his heres, 
His hondes like a briddes clowes were, 
Til God relessed him a certeyn j^eres, 
And gaf him witte, and thanne with many a tere 
He thanked God, and ever he is afere 
To doon amys or more to trespace. 
And er that tyme he layd was on here, 
He knew wel God was ful of might and grace. 

Balthazar* 

His sone, which that highte Balthazar, 
That huld the regne after his fader day. 
He by his fader couthe nought be war, 
For proud he was of hert and of array ; 
And eek an ydolaster was he ay. 
His heigh astate assured him in pryde ; 
But fortune cast him doun, and ther he lay. 
And sodeynly his regne gan divide. 

A fest he made unto his lordes alle 
Upon a tyme, he made hem blithe be ; 
And than his officeres gan he calle, 
'• (TOth, bringeth forth the vessealx," quod he, 
" The which my fader in his prosperite 
Out of the temple of Jerusalem byraft ; 
And to oure hihe goddis thanke we 
Of honours that oure eldres with us laft I " 
His wif, his lordes, and his concubines 
Ay dronken, whiles her arriont last, 
Out of this noble vesseals sondry wynes. 
And on a wal this king his yhen cast, 
And saugh an bond armies, that wroot fast ; 
For fere of which he quook and siked sore. 
This bond, that Balthazar made so sore agast, 
Wrot, Mane, techely phares, and no more. 

In al the lond magicien was noon 

15662. hondes. The Lansd. Ms. reads naijles, wliieh is adopted by Typ- 
vrbitt. 

15665. he is afere. The Lansd. Ms., which is followed by Tyrwhitt, reads,— 

. . . and his life in fere 
Was he u> iloon amys. 

l.'jeeP. His sone. This stoiy and the preceding are taken from Daniel, i. 5 ; 
tlm latter only is given in iiocaccio. 

ir)t;s(,. (trriont. This is the reading of the Harl, Ms.; it is a word which 
o.cur.'i nowhere else, as far us 1 am :ivv;ire, hut 1 liave not ventured lo altei it 
The Lausd. Ms. reads appetitts, wbich Tyrwhitt aUupia. 



462 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



That coil the oxpounde what this lettre inent. 
But Daniel expoundith it anoori, 
And sayde, " King, God to thy fader sent 
Glori and honour, regne, tresor, and rent ; 
And he was proud, and nothing God ne dredde^ 
And therfor God gret wreche upon him sent, 
And him biraft the regne that he hadde. 

" He was out cast of mannes compaignye. 
With asses was iiis habitacioun, 
And eete hay in wet and eek in drye. 
Til that he knew by grace and by resoun 
That God of heven had doininacioun, 
Over eveiy regne and every creature ; 
And than had God of him compassioun, 
And him restored to his regne and his figure. 

" Eke thou that art his sone art proud also, 
And knowest al this thing so verrayly, 
And art rebel to God and art his fo ; 
Thou dronk eek of his vessel bodily, 
Tliy wyf eek and thy wenche sinfully 
Dronke of the same vessel sondry wynes ; 
And heriest false goddes cursedly ; 
Tlierfore to the schapen ful gret pyne es. 

"This hond was send fro God, that on the waJ 
Wrot, Mane, techel, phares, truste me. 
Thy regne is doon, thou weyist nought at ai 3 
Divided is thy regne, and it schal be 
To Meedes and to Perses geven," quod he. 
And thilke same night, the king was slawe^ 
And Darius oeoupied his degre, 
Tiiough therto neyther had he right ne lawe. 

Lordyngs, ensaujple her-by may ye take, 
How that in lordschip is no sikernesse ; 
For whan fortune wil a man for-sake, 
Sche bereth away his regne and his richesse, 
And eek his frendes bothe more and lesse. 
And what man hath of frendes tlie fortune. 
Mishap wil make hem enemyes, I gesse ; 
This proverbe is ful sothe and ful comune. 

ZenoMa, 

Cenobia, of Palmire the queene, 
As writen Perciens of hir nol)lesse, 

15719. iceyist. This reatling is taken from the Lansd. Ms, The HaTl. Ma. 
roails >ri')iist. - . 

1573;;. Cenobia. The story of Zenobia is taken chieliy iiuui lioccaccios 
work. JJe Claris malitritiUsi, 



TltE MONkkS TALE. 4(j3 



So worthy was in armes and so keene. 

That no wight passed hir in hardynesse, 

Ne in lynage, ne in other gentilnesse. 

Of the kinges blood of Pers sche is descendid ; 

I ^^ay that sclie iitcd not most fairnesse, 

But of hir scliap sche might not be amendid. 

Fro hir childhod I fynde that sch fiedde 
Oflice of wommen, and to woode sche went, 
And many a wilde hertes blood sche schedde 
With arwes brode that sche to hem sent ; 
Sche was so swyft, that sche anoon hem hent. 
And whan that sche was elder, sche wolde kille 
Leouns, lebardes, and beres al to-rent, 
And in hir armes weld hem at hir wille. 

Sche dorste wilde bestes dennes seke, 
And renne in the mounteyns al the night, 
And slepe under a bussh ; and sche coutlie eeke 
Wrastil by verray fors and verray might 
With eny yong man, were he never so wight. 
Ther mighte no thing in hir armes stonde. 
Sche kept hir maydenhed from every wight ; 
To no man deyned hire to be bonde. 

But atte last hir frendes han hir marled 
To Odenake, i^rince of that citee, 
Al were it so that sche him longe taried. 
And ye schul understonde how that he 
Had suohe fantasies as hadde sche. 
But natheles, whan thay were knyt in fere, 
Thay lyved in joye and in felicite ; 
For ech of hem had other leef and deere. 

Save oon thing, sche wolde never assent 
By no way that he schulde by hir lye 
Bat oones, for it was hir playn entent 
To have a child the world to multiplie ; 
And also soone as sche might aspye 
That sche was not with childe yit in dede. 
Than wold sche suffre him doon his fantasie 
Eftsones, and nought but oones, out t)f drede. 

And if sche were with child at thilke ciust. 
No more schuld he playe thilke game 
Til fully fourty dayes were y-past, 
Than wold sche sufTre him to do the same 
Al were this Odeuake wilde or tame. 
He gat no more of hir, for thus sche sayde. 
Hit nas but wyves lecchery and schame. 
In other caas if that men with hem playde. 

Tuo sones by this Odenak had sciie, 



464 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



The which sche kept in vertu and lettruve. 

But now unto our purpos torne we ; 

I say, so worschipful a creature, 

And wys, worthy, and large with mesnre, 

So penyble in the werre and cuvteys eeke, 

Ne more labour might in werre endure, 

Was nowher noon in al this world to seeke. 

Hir riche array, if it might be told, 
As wel in vessel as in hir clothing, 15790 

Sche was al clothed in perre and gold ; 
And eek sche lafte nought for hir huntyng 
To have of sondry tonges ful knowing ; 
Whan sche had leyser and might therto entent. 
To lerne bookes was al hir liky ng, 
How sche in vertu might hir lif despent. 

And schortly of this story for to trete, 
So doughty was hir housbond and eek sche, 
That thay conquered many regnes grete 
In thorient, with many a fair citee 15800 

Appurtienant unto the magest 
Of Rome, and with strong bond hulden hem fast ; 
No never might her fomen doon hem fie 
Ay while that Odenakes dayes last. 

Her batails, who so lust hem for to rede, 
Agayn Sapor the king and other mo, 
And how that this processe fel in dede. 
Why sche conquered, and what title had therto, 
And after of hir meschief and Inr woo, 
How that sche was beseged and i-take, 15810 

Let hem unto my mayster Petrark go, 
Tliat writeth of this y-nough, I undertake. 

Whan Odenake was deed, sche mightily 
The regnes huld, and with hir propre bond 
Ageins hir foos sche fought ful trewely, 
That ther nas king ne prince in al that lond 
That he nas glad if he that grace fond 
That sche ne wold upon his lond werraye. 
With hir thay made alliaunce by bond, 
To ben in peese, and let hir ryde and play. 15820 

The emperour of Rome, Claudius, 
Ne him biforn the Romayn Galiene, 
Ne dorste never be so corrageous, 
Ne noon Ermine, ne Egipciene, 
No Surrien, ne noon Arrabienp, 
insin. }>esege(h This reading is aucpted from tlie Lansd. Ms., as best 
suited to the context. Tho Hail. MS" has deceyvtiL 

lo.sJf). trcire/y. The wss. I have examined agree iu tliia word; Tyrwhitt 
reads cruelly. 



THE MONKES TALE. 465 



Withinne the feld that durste with hir fi^ht, 
Lest that sche wold hem with her hondes sleeiii 
Or with hir lueyne putten hem to flight. 

In kinges abyt went hir sones tuo, 
As heires of her fadres regnes alle j 15830 

And Hermanno and Themaleo 
Here names were, and Parciens men hem calle. 
But ay fortune hath in hir hony galle ; 
This mighty queene may no while endure, 
Fortune out of hir regno made hir falle 
To wrecchednesse and to mysadventure. 

Aurilian, whan that the governaunce 
Of Rome cam into his hondes tway, 
lie schop him of this quean to do venfi^eaunce • 
And with his legiouns he took the way 15840 

Toward Cenoby ; and schortly to say 
He made hir flee, and atte last hir hent, 
And feterid hir, and eek hir children tweye, 
And wan the lond, and home to Rome he went. 

Amonges other thinges that he wan, 
Hir chaar, that was with gold wrought and perre. 
This grete Romayn, this Aurilian, 
Hath with him lad, for that men schulde se. 
Bifore this triumphe walkith sche, 

And giite cheynes in hir necke hongynge ; 15850 

Corouned sche was, as aftir hir degre, 
And ful of perre chargid hir clothyng. 

Alias ! fortune ! sche that whilom was 
Dredful to kings and to emperoures, 
Now gaulith al the pepul on hir, alas! 
And sche that helmyd was in starke stoures. 
And wan bifore tounes stronge and toures, 
Schal on hir heed now were a wyntermyte ; 
And she that bar the cepter ful of floures, 
Schal here a distaf hirself for to quyte. 15860 

De Petro Hispanic rege 

O noble Petro, the glori of Si)ayne, 
Whom fortune held so heigh in magestc, 

15832. and Parciens men hem calle. The Laiisd. Ms. and Tyrwhitt read as 
PerKinns hem calle. 

15855. (jaulith, yelleth, howleth, shouteth. Tyrwhitt follows otherMSS. in 
reading yaureth, shouteth. 

15857. bi/ore. Other Mss. read byfors. 

15S58. wyntermyte. Thisword, the exact meaning of which seems not to be 
known, is given differently in the mss, rltrymite, jilermyte, witermite, vitryfe, 
and in the old printed editions, autreviite ; the latter of which is probably a 
mere error of the printers. 

158()0. hirself. Other MSs.. followed hyTyrwhiit, read hir cost. 

15801. noble. Petro. Tyrwhitt has adopted a dillereut arrangement from 



466 THE CANTEBBUBY TALES. 



Wei oughte men thy pitous deth complayn*^ ; 

Thy bastard brother made the to fle, 

And after at a sege by subtilte 

Thow were bytrayed, and lad to his tent, 

Wher as he Mitli his oughne hend slough the, 

Succedyng in thy lond and in thy rent. 

The feld of snow, with thegle of black ther-inne, 
Caught with the leoun, reed coloured as is the gleede, 
lie brewede the cursednesse and synne, 15871 

The wikked nest werker of this neede. 
Nought Oliver, ne Charles that ay took heede 
Of trouthe and honour, but of Armoryk 
Geniloun Oliver, corruptid for mede, 
Broughte this worthy king in such a bryk. 

De Petro Cipre rege. 

O worthy Petro king of Cipres, also, 
That Alisaunder wan by heigh maistrye, 
Ful many an hetlien wroughtest thou ful wo, 
Of which thin oughne lieges had envyc : 15880 

And for no thing but for thy chivalrie, 
Thay in thy bed han slayn the by the morwe. 

some of the manuscripts, so as to place the histories more nearly in chrono- 
logical order, by inserting after Zenobia, Nero, Holofernes, Antiochus, Alex- 
ander, Caesar, and Cresus, and the monk's tale is made to end with the story 
of Hugolin of Pisa. I retain, however, the arrangement of the Ifarl. Ms., not 
only because I think it the best authority, but because I think this to be the 
order in whii-h Chaucer intended to place them. The conclusion of the 
monk's tale, as it here stands, seems to be the natural one. When Chaucer 
wrote his grand work, the eventful history of Pedro the Cruft-l «f Aragon waa 
fresh in peoples mumorie-J, and possessed a special interest in this country, 
from the part taken in the events connected with him by the Black Prince; 
we can easily suppose the monk, who professes to disregard chronological! 
order, wandering from the story of Zenobia to some events of his own time, 
and then recalling other examples from antiquity. Tyrwhitt adopts? from 
the reading of other ms.'^., O voble a icor/Iiy Petro, ylorie of Spaine. It may 
be observed, that the canse of Pedro, though he was no better Hian a cruel 
and reckless tyrant, was popular in England from the very ciBuumstance that 
Prince Edward had embarked in it. 

15864. Other mss. read for this line, Out of thy lond thy hrothen- made the 
flee. 

15R68. Jond. The Lansd. Ms. reads yxgne, which is adopted by Tyrwhitt^ 
and is perhaps the better reading. 

15870. leoun, reed coloured. The Lansd. Ms. reads lime rodde colours, and 
Tyrwhitt has adopted limerod coloured. The arms here described are prob- 
ably those of Duguesclin, who must be the peison alluded to below as the 
Oliver of Armoryk, for it was notoriously Duguesclin who betrayed Pedio 
into his brother's tent, where he was slain. 

15873. Noufiht Olirer, ne Charlea. The Lansd. Ms. reads Charles and 
0/?/t7t'r, and Tyrwhitt has Xol Churlrs 0/<rer, which he explains, "Kotthe 
Oliver of Charles (Charlemange), but an Oliver of Armoiica, a second 
Guenelon." 

15877. Petro king of Cypres. Pierre de Lusignan, king of Cyprus, who cap- 
tured Alexandria in Egypt in 1365, an event before alluded to at the beginning 
of the Canterbury Tales (1. 51). This prince was assassinaLcd in IGot/. 



TUE MONKES TALE. 467 

Thus can fortune the whel governe and gye, 
And out of joye bringe men hito sorwe. 

De Barnaho comite Mediolano. 

Of Melayn grete Barnabo Viscount, 
God of delyt and scourge of Lumbardye, 
Why schuld thyn infortune I noughte accounte. 
Syn in astaat thou clombe were so hye ; 
Tliy brother sone, that was thy double aUie, 
For he thy nevew was and sone in lawe, 15800 

Within ne his prisoun made the to dye ; 
But why ne how, not I, that thou were slawe. 

• De Hugilino comite Pise. 

Of the erl Hugilin of Pise the Umgour 
Ther may no tonge telle for pite. 
But litil out of Pise stant a tour, 
In whiche tour in prisoun put was he ; 
And with him been his litil children thre, 
Theldest skarsly fyf yer was of age ; 
Alias ! fortune ! it was gret cruelte 
Suche briddes to put in such a cage. )j900 

Dampnyd he v/as to deye in that prisoun, 
For Roger, which that bisschop was of Pise, 
Had on him maad a fals suggestioun ; 
Thurgh .which the j^eple gan on him arise. 
And putte him in prisoun in such wise 
As ye han herd, and mete and dryiike he hadde 
So smal that wel unnethe it may suffise, 
And therwithal it was ful pore and badde. 

And on a day bifel that in that hour 
Whan that his mete was wont to be brought, 15910 
The gayler schet the dores of that tour. 
He herd it wel, but he saugh it nought. 
And in his hert anoon ther fel a thought 
That thay for hungir wolde doon him dyen. 
" Alas ! " quod he, " alias ! that 1 was wrought ! " 
Therwith the teeres felle fro his eyen. 

15885. (y }r<'lai/n (jrete Barnnbn. Beniabo Visconti, dnke of Milan, was 
deposed by his nephew and thrown into prison, where he died in llWo. Ihis 
traj^jcdy must liave occurred eo recently when Chaucer wrote, that we do not 
wonder at his not knowing the circninstanccs of his death. 

15886. scourge. I have adopted this reading from the Lansd. INfs., in place 
oi strength, given by the Harl. Ms., which seems evidently incorrect. 

1589.3. Of the erl Hugilin. The story of Hngolin of Pisa, had beeji told 
by Dante, iu the In/emu, canto 33, whom Chaucer quotes directly as his 
authority. 



His yongest sone, that thre yer was of age, 
Unto him sayde, " Fader, why do ye wepe? 
Whan wil the gayler bringen oure potage ? 
Is ther no morsel bred that ye doon kepe ? 15920 

I am so hungry that I may not sleepe. 
Now wolde God that I might slepe ever ! 
Than schuld not hunger in my wombe crepe. 
Ther is no tiling save bred that me were lever." 

Thus day by day this child bigan to crie, 
Til in his fadres barm adoun he lay, 
And sayde, " Far wel, fader, I moot dye ! " 
And kist his fader, and dyde the same day. 
And whan the woful fader deed it say. 
For wo his amies tuo he gan to byte, 15930 

And sayde " Fortune, alas and waylaway ! 
Thin false querel al my woo I wyte." 

His childer wende that it for hongir was, 
That he his amies gnew, and nouglit for wo, 
And sayden, "Fader, do nought so, alias ! 
But rather et the fleisch upon us tuo. 
Oure fleisch thou gave us, oure fleissh thou take us fro, 
And ete y-nough ; " right thus thay to him seyde. 
And after that, withinne a day or tuo, 
Thay layde hem in his lappe adoun and deyde. 15U4() 

Himself despeired eek for honger starf . 
Thus ended is this mighty eorl of Pise ; 
For his estate fortune fro him carf. 
Of this tregede it ought y-nough suffise ; 
Who so wil it hiere in lenger wise, 
Rede the gret poet of Itaile 
That highte Daunt, for he can it devise, 
Fro poynt to poynt nought oon word wil he fayle. 

De Nerone, 

Although Nero were als vicious 
As any fend that lith ful lowe adoun, 15950 

Yit he, as tellith us Swethoneus, 
This wyde world had in subjeccioun, 
Bothe est and west and septemtrioun. 

15932. querel. The Laiisd. Ms. has whele, which is perhaps the better 
reading. 

15949. Although Nero. Although Chaucer quotes Suetouius, his account of 
Nero is really taken from the Roman de la Hose, and from Boethius ife Con- 
solat. Philos., lib. ii. met, 6. 

15953. and septemtrioun. This line stands as here printed in the Harl. and 
Tjansd. Mss. Tyrwhitt inserts south (south and septemtrion), and observes : 
»'TUe Msa. read north; but there can be no doubt of the propriety of tiie 



THE MONKES TALE. 469 

Of rubies, safers, and of perles white, 

Were alle his clothes embroudid up and doun ) 

For he in gemuiis gretly gan dehte. 

More delycat, more pompous of array, 
More proud was never emperour than he. 
That ylke cloth that he had w^ered a day. 
After that tyme he nolde it never se. 15960 

Nettis of gold thred had he gret plentc;, 
To fissche in Tyber, whan him lust to pleye. 
His willes were as lawe in his degre 
For fortune as his frend wold him obeye. 

He Rome brent for his delicacie ; 
The senatours he slough upon a day. 
To here how men wolde wepe and crye ; 
And slough his brother, and by his suster lay. 
His modir made he in i^itous array, 
For hire wombe slyt he, to byholde 15970 

Wher he conceyved was, so waylaway ! 
That he so litel of his moodir tolde. 

No teer out of his eyen for that sight 
Ne came ; but sayde, a fair wonjiiian was sche 
Gret wonder is that he couthe or might 
Be domesman on hir dede beaute. 
The wyn to bringen liim comaundid he, 
And drank anoon, noon other wo he made. 
Whan might is torned unto cruelte, 
Alias! to deepe wil the venym wade. 15680 

In youthe a maister had this emperour, 
To teche him letterure and curtesye ; 
For of moralite he was the flour. 
And in liis tyme, but if bokes lye. 

correction, which was made, I believe, in ed. Urr. In the Rom. de la I!., 
from whence great part of this tragedy of Nero is translated, the passage 
stands thus, 6501 : 

Ce desloyal, que je te dy, 

Et d'Oiient, et de Midy, 

D'Occident, de Septentrion, 

Tint-il la jurisuicion." 
15963. tciUefi. The Lansd. Ms. has lustea, the reading adopted by Tyrwhitt. 
I am inclined to prefer the reading of thellarl. Ms., which avoids the repeti- 
tion of the previous line. 

15970. hire mvnhe slyt he. So the Harl. and Lansd. Mss. ; Tyrwhitt reads 
he hire wombe let slitte- 

15976. on hir dide beauti. The word dede, omitteil in the Harl. Ms. Is evi- 
dently necessary for the sense and measure. Chaucer is translating the 
words of Boethius, lib. ii. met. 6,— 

•' Ora non tinxit lacrymis, sed esse 

Censor txtincti potut decoris ;" 
which be has given thus in his prose version of Boethius. " Ne no tere wette 
his fact'. I'ut he was so barde barted, that he might be domesman, or judge, 
oi her linidc bcaaie." In both, domesman represents the Latin censor. 



470 THE CANTEmwny TALES. 



And whil his maister had of him maistrie, 
fle made him so connyng and so souple, 
That long tyme it was or tyrannye 
Or ony vice dorst on him uncouple. 

This Seneca of which that I devyse, 
Bycause Nero had of him such drede, 15990 

For fro vices he wol him chastise 
Discretly as by word, and nought by dede. 
"Sir," wold he sayn, " an emperour mot neede 
Be vertuous and hate tyrannye." 
For which he in a bath made him to bleede 
On bothe his amies, til he moste dye. 

This Nero hadde eek a custumance 
In youthe agein his maister for to ryse, 
Which after-ward him thought a gret grevaunce ; 
Therfore he made him deye in this wise. 16000 

But natheles this Seneca the wise 
Ches in a bath to deye in this manere, ■ 
Rather than to have another tormentise ; 
And thus hath Nero slayn his maister deere. 

Now fel it so that fortune lust no longer 
The highe pride of Nero to cherice ; 
For though he were strong, yit was sche strenger, 
Sohe though te thus, " By God ! I am to nyce, 
To set a man that is ful sad of vice 
In high degre, and emperour him calle ; 16010 

By God ! out of his sete I wil him trice ; 
Whan he lest weneth, sonn?st schal byfalle. 

The poeple ros on him upon a night 
For heigh defaute, and whan he it aspyed, 
Out of his dores anoon he hath him dight 
Aloone, and tlier he wende have ben allyed, 
He knokked fast ; and ay the more he cried, 
The faster schette thay the dores alle. 
Than wist he wel he had himself mysgyed. 
And went his way, no lenger durst he calk-, 16020 

The peple cried, and rumbled up and doun, 
That with his eris herd he how thay sayde, 
** Her is this fals traitour, this Neroun ! " 
For fere almost out of his witte he brayde, 
And to his goddes pitously he prayde 
For socour, but it mighte nought betyde : 
For drede of this him thoughte that he dyde, 

16003. tormentise. I have substituted this reading from Tyrwhitt, in place 
of that of the Harl. Ms., tyrannie. Tlie Laiisd. Ms. has (ormentrlr. 

Ifi009. sad. The Lausd. Ms. reads fiUjiilcd, which is the reading adopted 
by Tyrwhitt. 



TTTK MONKES TALE. 471 



And ran into a c^ardyn him to hyde. 

And in this jj^ardyii fond he cherHs twaye 
Sittynge by a fuyr ful greet and reed. 16030 

And to these cherles tuo he gau to praye 
To sleen him, and to girden of his heed. 
That to his body, whan that he were deed, 
Were no despyt y-doon for his defame. 
Himself he slough, he coutiie no better reed ; 
Of which fortune thai lough and hadde game. 

De Olipherno. 

Was never capitaigne under a king 
That regnes mo put in subjeccioun, 
Ne strenger was in feld of alio thing 
As in his tyme, ne gretter of renoun, 3 6040 

Ne more pompous in heih j^resumpcioun, 
Than Oliphern, which that fortune ay kist 
So licorously, and ladde him up and doun, 
Til that his heed was of, er he it wist. 

Nought oonly that the world had of him awe, 
For lesyng of riches and libertc, 
But he made every num reneye his laAve ; 
Nabugodonosor was lord, sayde he ; 
Noon other god schuld honoured be. 
Ageinst his heste dar no wight trespace, 16050 

Save in Betholia, a strong cite, 
Wher Eliachim a prest was of that place. 

But tak keep of that detbe of Olipherue ; 
Amyd his ost he dronke lay on night 
Withinne his tente, large as is a berne, 
And yit, for all his pomp and al his might, 
Judith, a womman, as he lay upright 
Slepying, his heed of smot, and fro his tent 
Ful prively sche stal from every wight, 
And with his heed unto liir toun sche went. 16060 

De rege Antioehie illustri. 

Wliat needith it of king Antiochius, 
To telle his heye real mageste, 

16037. Was never capitaigne. This story is of course taken from the book 
of Judith. Tyrwhitt has committed a singular oversight in his note on line 
16037,— "I cannot lind any priest of this name (Eliachim) in the book of 
Judith. The high i)riest ol Jerusalem is called Joachim in c. iv., which name 
would suit the verse better than Ji:iiachim." In the vulgate Latin version of 
the book of Judith, which, of course, was the one used by Chaucer, the high 
priest's name is KlUu-him. 

1C061. king Antiochius. This story is taken from 'Z Maccabees, c. ix. 



472 THE CANTEBBUllY TALES. 



His heyhe pride, his werke venemous ? 
For such another was ther noon as he. 
Redeth which that he was in Machabe, 
And redith the proude wordes that he sayde, 
And why he fel fro his prosperity, 
And in an hil how wrecchidly he deyde. 

Fortune him hath enhaunced so in pryde, 
That verraily he wend he might atteyne' 16070 

Unto the sterris upon every syde ; 
And in a balaunce weyen ech mounteyne ; 
And alle the floodes of the see restreyne. 
And Goddes peple had lie most in liate ; 
Hem wold he slee in torment and in [)eyne, 
Wenyng that God ne might his pride abate. 

And for that Nichanor and Thimothe 
With Jewes were venquist mightily, 
Unto the Jewes such an hate had he, . 
That he bad graithe his chaar hastily, 16080 

And swor, and sayde ful despitously, 
Unto Jerusalem he wold eftsoone. 
To wreke his ire on it full cruelly ; 
But of his purpos he was let ful soone. 

God, for his manace, him so sore smoot 
With invisible wounde incurable, 
That in his guttes carf it so and bot, 
That his peynes were importable. 
And certeynly the wreche was resonable ; 
For many a mannes guttes dede he peyne ; 16090 

But fro his purpos cursed and dampnable, 
For al his smert, he nolde him nought restreyne. 

But bad anoon apparailen his host. 
And sodeynly, er he was of it ware, 
God daunted al his pride and al his host 
For he so sore fel out of his chare. 
That it his lymes and his skyn to-tare, 
So that he nomore might go ne ryde ; 
But in a chare men aboute him bare 
Al for-brosed, bothe bak and syde. 16100 

The wreche of God him smot so cruely, 
That in his body wicked wormes crept, 
And ther withal he stonk so orribly, 
That noon of al his meyne that him kepte, 
Whether that he wook or elles slepte, 
J^e mighte nought the stynk of him endure. 

16072. atteyne. 16072. weyeji ech mounteyne. I have not hesitated in cor- 
recting the Harl. Ms. in thia instance by others ; the former reads, by an 
bYideut orror of the scribe, have teyned aiid loeytn whet ech mouiUcyued. 



THE MONKES TALE. 473 



In this iiieschief he weyled and eek wepte, 
And knew God lord of every creature. 

To al his host and to himself also 
Ful wlatsom was the stynk of his carayne j 16110 

No man ne might him here to ne fro ; 
And in his stynk and his orrible payne 
He starf fal wrecchedly in a mountayne. 
Thus hath this robbour and this homicide. 
That many a man made wepe and playne. 
Such guerdoun as that longeth unto pryde. 

J)e Alexandra 3fagno, Philippi regis Macedonia fllio. 

The story of Alisaunder is so comune, 
That every wight that hath discrecioun 
Hath herd som-what or al of this fortune ; 
Thys wyde world as in conclusioun 16120 

He wan by strengthe, or for his heigh renoun, 
Thay were glad for pees unto him sende. 
Tlie pride of man and bost he layd adoun, 
Wher so he cam, unto the worldes ende. 

Comparisoun yit mighte never be maked 
Bitwen him and noon other conquerour ; 
For al this world for drede of him hath quaked. 
He was of knyghthod and of fredam flour ; 
Fortune him made the heir of hir honour ; 
Save wyn and wymmen, no thing might aswage 16130 
His heigh entent in amies and labour, 
So was he ful of leonyne corage. 

What pite were it to him, though I yow tolde 
Of Darius, and an hundred thousand mo 
Of kynges, princes, dukes, and eorles bolde, 
Which he conquered and brought unto wo? 
I say, as fer as men may ryde or go, 
The world was his, what scliold I more devyse ? 
For though I write or tolde you ev^ermo. 
Of his knighthood it mighte nought suffise. 16140 

Twelf yer he regned, as saith 3Iachabe ; 
Philippes son of Macedon he was, 
That first was king in Grece that contre. 
O worthy gentil Alisaundre, alas ! 
That ever schulde falle such a caas! 
Empoysoned of thin oughne folk thou were ; 
Thyn sis fortune is torned into an aas, 

10132. leoijne. I have adopted tliiB reading from Tyrwhitfc. That of the 
Hail. Ms., lumijne, seeina to make no eenae, a"id the reading of the Laned. 
Ms., lootinye, is uo better. 



474 THE CAKTERBUIiY TALES. 



And right for the ne wepte sche never n teere. 

Who schal me give teeres to compleigne 
The deth of gentiles and of fraunchise, 16150 

That al the worlde had in his demeigne ; 
And yit him thought it mighte nought suffico, 
So ful was his corage of high emprise. 
Alias ! who schal helpe me to endite 
Fals infortune, and poysoun to devj'se. 
The whiche two of al this wo I wyte. 

Julius Cesar. 

By wisedom, manhod, and by gret labour, 
Pro humblehede to royal mageste 
Up roos he, Julius the conquerour, 
That wan al thoccident by land and see, 16160 

By strengthe of hond or elles by trete, 
And unto Rome made hem contributarie. 
And siththe of Rome themperour was he, 
Til that fortune wax his adversarie, 

O mighty Cesar, that in Thessalie 
Agains Pompeus, fader thin in lawe, 
That of the orient had al the chivalrie, 
Als fer as that the day bigynnes to dawe, 
Thorugh thi knighthod thou hast him take and slawe, 
Save fewe folk that with Pompeus fledde ; 16170 

Thurgh which thou puttist al thorient in awe ; 
Thanke fortune that so wel the spedde. 

But noAv a litel while I wil bywaile 
This Pompoms, the noble governour 
Of Rome, which that flowe fro this bataile ; 
Alas ! I say, oon of his men, a fals traitour, 
His heed of smoot, to wynne his favour 
Of Julius, and him the heed he brought. 
Alas ! Pompeus, of the orient conquerour. 
That fortune to such a fyn the brought. 13180 

To Rome agayn repaireth Julius, 
With his triumphe laurial ful hye. 
But on a tyme Brutus and Cassius, 
That ever had to his estat envye, 
Ful prively hath made conspiracie 
Agains this Julius in subtil wise ; 
And cast the place in which he schulde dye 
With boydekyns, as I schal yow devyse. 

This Julius to the capitoile went 
Upon a day, as he was wont to goon ; 16190 

And in the capitoil auoon him hent 



TUB MONKES TALE. 475 



This false Brutus, and his other foon, 

And stiked him with boydekyns anoon 

With many a wounde, and thus thay let him lye. 

But never gront he at no strook but oon, 

Or elles at tuo, but if the storie lye. 

So manly was this Julius of hert, 
And so wel loved estatly honeste, 
That though his deedly woundes sore smert, 
His mantil over his hipes caste he, 16300 

For no man schulde seen his priveto. 
And as he lay deyinge in a traunce. 
And wiste wel that verrayly deed was he. 
Of honeste yet had he remenibraunce. 

Lucan, to the this story I recomende, 
And to Swetoun and to Valirius also, 
That al the story writen Avord and ende. 
How to these grete conqueroures tuo 
Fortune was first frend and siththen fo. 
No man trust upon hir favour longe, 16310 

But have hir in awayt for evermo, 
Wituesse on aile thise conqueroures stronge. 

C7'esus. 

This riche Cresus, whilom king of Lyde, 
Of which Cresus Cirus him sore dradde, 
Yet was he caught amyddes al his pride. 
And to the fuyr to brenne him men him ladde. 
But such a rayn doun fro the heven schadde, 
That slough the fuyr and made him to eschape. 
But to be war yet grace noon he hadde, 
Til fortune on the ga"lwes made him gape. 16220 

Whan he was eschaped, he couth nought stent 
For to bygynne a new^e werre agayn ; 
He wende wel, for th{U fortune him .sent 
Such hap that he eschaped thurgh the rayn, 
That of his foos he mighte not be slayn. 
And eek a sweven upon a night he mette, 
Of which he was so proud and eek so fayn, 
That in vengeaunce he al his herte sette. 

Upon a tree he was set, as him thought, 

ir.213, Cresus. The TT.irl. l\Is. lias (Iresus all through, \vlii«'h T have not 
tbouj^ht it necessary to retain. Tyrwliill, observes that,—" 1 n the opening of 
this story, our author has plainly copied the following passage of his own 
version of Boethius, li. ii. Pro. 2: 'Wiste thou not how Cresus, king of 
hydiens, of whiclw k'nnj ( 'i/riis was fill sorr agaste a litel bt>fore. etc' But the 
greatest part is taken froiii ihe Ri»ii. ifc hi Rose, ver. GS47 — (j;tlJ."' 

16217. heven. The l^ansd. JMs. has walkyn, aud Tyrwhitt welken. 



476 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Wlier Jubiter him wissch bothe bak and side, 16230 

And Phebus eek a fair towail him brought 

To drye him with, and therfore wax his pride ; 

And to his doughter that stood him biside, 

Which that he knew in heigh science abounde, 

And bad hire telle what it signifyde, 

And sche his dreem right thus gan expounde. 

"The tree," quod sche, " the galwes is to mene, 
And Jubiter betokenith snow and rayn, 
And Phebus with his towail so clene, 
Tho ben the sonne stremes, soth to sayn. 16240 

Thow schalt enhangid ben, fader, certayn ; 
Rayn shal the wasch, and sonne schal the drye." 
Thus warned sche him ful plat and ek ful playn, 
His doughter, which that called was Phanie. 

And hanged was Cresus this proude king, 
His real trone might him not availe. 
Tregedis, ne noon other maner thing, 
Ne can I synge, crie, ny biwayle, 
But for that fortune wil alway assayle 
With unwar strook the regnes that ben proude ; 16250 
For whan men trusteth hir, than wil sche faile, 
And cover hir brighte face with a clowde. 

THE PROLOaE CI? THE NONNE PRESTES TALi:. 

** Ho, sire ! " quod the night ** no more of this ; 
That ye han said is right y-nough y-wys, 
And mochil mor ; for litel hevynesse 
Is right i-nough for moche folk, I gesse. 
1 say for me, it is a gret disease, 
Wher as men han ben in gret welthe and ease, 
To hieren of her sodeyn fal, alias I 

And the contraire is joye and gret solas ; 16260 

As whan a man hath ben in pore estate, 
And clymbith up, and wexetli fortunate. 
And ther abydeth in prosperite ; 
Sucli thing is gladsom, and it thinkith me. 
And of such thing were goodly for to telle." 

16247. Tregedis. These two lines are given differently in TyrwLitt, and 
perhaps better, as follows : 

" Tragedie is none other maner tiling, 
Ne can in singing orien ne bewaile." 
And lie observes, " This reflection seems to have been suggested by one which 
follows soon after the mention of Cro?sus in the passage just cited from Boe- 
thius. ♦ What other thing bewaylen the cryinges of tragedyes but onely Ihe 
dedes of fortune, that with an aukewardo stroke overtouruetii the realuiee of 
grete nobleye?'" 



rUE PBOLOGE OF THE liONNE PBESTES TALE. 477 



*' Ye," quod oure host, ** by seint Paules belle, 

Ye say right soth ; this monk hath clappid lowde 

He spak, how fortune was clipped with a clowde 

I not never what, and als of tregedie 

Right now ye herd ; and pardy ! no remedye 16270 

It is for to bywayle or compleyne 

That that is doon ; and also it is a peyne, 

As ye han said, to hiere of hevynesse. 

Sire monk, no more of this, so God yow blesse ; 

Your tale anoyeth al this compaignie ; 

Such talkyng is nought worth a boterflye, 

For therinne is noon disport n^ game. 

Wherfor, sir monk, damp Pieres by your name, 

I pray yow hertly, tel us somewhat ellis, 

For sicurly, ner gingling of the bellis 1628 

That on your bridil hong on every syde, 

By heven king, that for us alle dyde, 

I schold er this han falle doun for sleep ; 

Although the slough had never ben so deep ; 

Than had your tale have be told in vayn. 

For certeynly, as these clerkes sayn, 

Wher as a man may have noon audience, 

Nought helpith it to tellen his sentence. 

And wel I wot the substance is in me. 

If eny thing schal wel reported be. 16290 

Sir, say somwhat of huntyng, I yow pray." 

*' Nay," quod the monk, " I have ho lust to play ; 

Now let another telle, as I have told." 

Then spak our ost with rude speche and bold. 
And said unto the nonnes prest anoon, 
"Com ner, thou prest, com ner, thou sir Johan, 
Tel us such thing as may our hertee glade ; 
Be blithe, although thou ryde upon a jade. 
What though thin hors be bothe foul and lene ? 
If he wil serve the, rek not a bene ; 16300 

Lok that thin hert be mery evermo." 
*' Yis, sire, yis, hoste," quod he, " so mot I go, 
But I be mery, i-wis I wol be blamed." 
And right anoon he hath his tale tamyd ; 
And thus he sayd unto us everichoon. 
This sweete prest, this goodly man sir Johan. 

16268. iras clipped. The Lansd. Ms. reads covered was, wliicli is adopted 
by Tyrwliitt. 

16280. gingling. The Lansd. Ms. reads cli/nkeing, the reading wbicb Tyr* 
WliiU adopts. Compare, however, the Prologue, 1. 170, and the note. 



478 THE CANTERBURY TALE3. 



THE NONNK PRESTES TALE. 

A PORE wydow, somdel stope in age, 

Was whilom duellyng in a pore cotage, 

Bisyde a grove, stondyng in a dale. 

This wydowe, of which I telle yow my tale, 16310 

Syn thilke day that sche was last a wif, 

In paciens ladde a ful symple lyf. 

For litel was hir catel and hir rent ; 

For housbondry of such as God hir sent, 

Sche fond hirself, and eek hir doughtres tuo. 

Thre large sowes had sche, and no mo, 

Thre kyn, and eek a scheep that highte Malle. 

Fnl sooty was hir bour, and eek hir halle, 

In which sche eet ful many a sclender meei. 

Of poynaunt saws hir needid never a deel. 1632tt 

Noon deynteth morsel passid thorugh hir throte ; 

Hir dyete was accordant to hir cote. 

Repleccioun ne made hir never sik ; 

Attempre dyete was al hir phisik, 

And exercise, and hertes suffisaunce. 

The goute lette hir nothing for to daunce, 

Ne poplexie schente not hir heed ; 

No wyn ne drank sche, nother whit ne reed ; 

Hir bord was servyd most with whit and blak, 16329 

Milk and broun bred, in which sche fond no lak, 

Saynd bacoun, and som tyme an ey or tweye ; 

For sche was as it were a maner deye. 

A yerd sche had, enclosed al aboute 

With stikkes, and a drye dich withoute, 

In which sche had a cok, hight Chauuteclere, 

In al the lond of crowyng M-as noon his peere. 

His vois was merier than the mery orgon, 

On masse dayes that in the chirche goon ; 

Wei sikerer was his crowyng in his logge, 

Than is a clok, or an abbay orologge. 16840 

By nature knew he ech ascencioun 

Of equinoxial in thilke toun ; 

For whan degrees fyftene were ascendid, 

Thanne crewe he, it might not ben amendid. 

The nonne prest his tale. This tale was taken from the fifth chapter of 
the old French metrical Roman de Renart, entitled Si conme Renart piist 
Chanteclir le coc (ed. Meon. torn. i. p. 49). The same story forms one of the 
babies of ISTarie of France, where it stands as fab. 51, Bou coc et dou wtrpu: 
eee Roquefort'ft edition of the works of Marie, torn. ii. p. 240. 



THE NONNE PRESTES TALE. 



479 



16350 



16360 



His comb was redder than the fyn coral, 
And batayld, as it were a castel wal. 
His bile was blak, and as the geet it schon 5 
Lik asur were his legges and his ton ; 
His nayles whitter than the lily flour, 
And like the burnischt gold was his colour. 
This gentil cok had in his govern aunce 
Seven hennes, for to do al his plesaunce, 
Whiche were his swstres and his paramoures, 
And wonder like to him, as of colonres. 
Of whiche the fairest hiewed on hir throte, 
Was cleped fayre damysel Pertilote. 
Curteys sche was, discret, and debonaire, 
And companable, and bar hirself ful faire, 
Syn thilke day that sche was seven night old, 
That sche hath trewely the hert in hold 
Of Chaunteclere loken in every lith ; 
Be loved hir so, that wel him was therwith. 
But such a joye was it to here him synge, 
Whan that the brighte sonne gan to springe, 
In swete accord, " my liefe is faren on londe." 

Fro thilke tyme, as I have understonde, 
Bestis and briddes cowde speke and synge. 
And so byfel, that in a dawenynge. 
As Chaunteclere among his wy ves alle 
Sat on his perclie, that was in his halle, 
And next him sat this faire Pertelote, 
This Chauntecler gan gronen in his throte, 
As man that in his dreem is dreeched sore. 
And whan that Pertelot thus herd him rore. 
Sche was agast, and sayde, " herte deere, 
What eylith yow to grone in this manere ? 
Ye ben a verray sleper, fy for schame ! " 
And he answerd and sayde thus, " Madame, 
I pray yow, that ye take it nought agreef : 
By God, me mette I was in such meschief 
Right now, that yit myn hert is sore afright. 
Now God," quod he, " my sweven rede aright. 
And keep my body out of foul prisoun ! 
Me mette, how that I romed up and doun 
Withinne oure yerd, wher as 1 saugh a beest. 
Was lik an hound, and wold have maad arrest 
Upon my body, and wold han had me deed. 
His colour was bitwixe yolow and reed ; 
And tipped was his tail, and bothc his eeres 



16370 



16380 



seihm night. I adopt this reMdiiij,' from the Lauad. Ms. j tlie rtjading 
of the Harl, Ms. seven yer ia certainly wroaij. 



480 



TtlJ]! (JANtEnnURY TALES. 



With blak, unlik the remenaunt of his heres. 16390 

His snowt was smal, with glowyng yen tweye ; 

Yet of liis look for fer almost I deye ; 

This caused me my gronyng douteles." 

*' Away ! " quod sche, " fy on yow^ herteles I 

Alias ! " quod sche, " for, by that (jod above t 

Now have ye lost myn hert and al my love i 

I can nought love a coward, by my feith. 

For certes, what soeny womman seith, 

We alle desiren, if it might be, 

To have housbondes, hardy, riche, and fre, 16400 

And secre, and no nygard, ne no fool, 

Ne him that is agast of every tool, 

Ne noon avaunter, by that God above ! 

How dorst ye sayn for schame unto your love. 

That any thing might make yow afferd ? 

Have ye no mannes hert, and lian a herd? 

Alias ! and can ye ben agast of swevenys ? 

Nought, God wot^ but vanite, in swevenis. 

Swevens engendrid ben of replecciouns. 

And often of fume, and of complexiouns, 16140 

Whan humours ben to abundaunt in a wight. 

Certes this dreem, which ye han met to-night, 

Cometh of the grete superfluite 

Of youre reede colera, parde. 

Which causeth folk to dremen in here dremes 

Of arwes, and of f uyr with reede beemes. 

Of rede bestis, that thai Avil him byte, 

Of contek, and of whelpis greet and lite ; 

Right as the humour of malencolie 

Causeth, in sleep, ful many a man to crye, 16439 

For fere of beres, or of boles blake, 

Or elles blake develes wol hem take. 

Of other humours coutlie I telle also. 

That wirken many a man in slep ful woo ; 

But I wol passe as lightly as I can. 

Lo Catoun, which that was so wis a man, 

Sayde he nought thus ne do no force of dremes ? 

Now, sire," quod sche, " whan we fle fro thise beemes. 

For Goddis love, as tak som laxatyf ; 

Up peril of my soule, and of my lyf, 16430 

I counsel yow the best, ] wol not lye, 

That bothe of coloure, and of malencolye 

10126. Lo Cato^m. Cato de Morihus.. 1. ii. (list. 32, Somnia ne cures. "I ob- 
serve, by the way, that this distich is quoted by John of Salisbury, Polycrat, 
1. ii. c. 16, as a precept ?'m sapientis. In another place, 1. vii. c. 9, he intro- 
duces his quotation of the first verse of dist. 20, 1. iii. in this manner, Ait vel 
Cato, vel aims, nam autor iucertua est."— Tyrwhitt. 




The nonnes preestes tale. 



TTIE KONNE PRESTES TALE. 4c 1 

Ye purge yow ; and for ye schol nought tarye, 

Though in this toun is noon apotecarie, 

I schal myself tuo herbes techyn yow, 

That schal be for your hele, and for youre prow ; 

And in oure yerd tho herbes schal I fynde, 

The whiche han of her proprete by kynde 

To purgen yow bynethe, and eek above. 

Forget not this, for Goddis oughne love I 16440 

Ye ben ful colerik of complexioun ; 

Ware the sonne in his ascencioun 

Ne fynd yow not replet in humours hole; 

And if it do, I dar wel lay a grote, 

That ye schul have a fever terciane, 

Or an agu, that may be youre bane. 

A day or tuo ye schul have digestives 

Of wormes, or ye take your laxatives, 

Of lauriol, century, and fumytere, 

Or elles of elder bery, that growith there, 16450 

Of catapus, or of gaytre beriis, 

Of erbe yve that groweth in our yerd, the mercy is ; 

Pike hem up right as thay growe, and et hem in. 

Be mery, housbond, for your fader kyn ; 

Dredith non dremes ; I can say no more." 

*' Madame," quod he, " graunt mercy of your lore. 

But natheles, as touching daun Catoun, 

That hath of wisdom such a gret renoun, 

Though that he had no dremes for todrede, 

By God, men may in olde bookes rede 16460 

Of many a man, more of auctorite 

Than ever Catoun was, so mot I the, 

That al the revers sayn of his sentence. 

And han wel founden by experience. 

That dremes ben significaciouns 

As wel of joye, as of tribulaciouns. 

That folk enduren in this lif present. 

Ther nedeth make of this noon argument ; 

The verray preve schewith it in dede. 

Oon of the grettest auctours that men rede, 16470 

Saith thus, that whilom tway felawes wente 

10432-3. These two lines, omitted in the Harl. Ms. by an overflight of the 
scribe, are here inscribed from the Lansd. Ms. 

16450. elder bery. This is the reading of the Harl. Ms. The Lansd- Ms. 
has c/nbore, and Tyrwhitt elleber. 

1G470. Oon of the grettest auctours. " Cicero, de Dlvin. 1. 1. c. 27, rehites this 
and the following story, but in a contrary order; and with so many other 
ditferences, that one might be led to 8usi)ect that he was here quoted at 
second hand, if it were not usual with Chaucer, in these stories of familiar 
life, to throw in a nuinber of natural circumstauces, not to be found iu iiis 
priginal -duthors."— Tyrwhitt. 



4^2 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

On pylgrimage in a f ul good entente ; 

And happed so, thay com into a toun, 

Wher as ther was such congregacioun 

Of poeple, and eek so streyt of herbergage, 

That thay fond nought as moche as oon cotage^ 

In which that thay might bothe i-logged be. 

Wherfor thay mosten of necessite, 

As for that night, depart her compaignye ; 

And ech of hem goth to his hostelrye, 16480 

And took his loggyng as it wolde falle. 

That oon of hem was loggid in a stalle> 

Fer in a yerd, with oxen of the plough ; 

That other man was logged wel y-nough- 

As was his adventure, or his fortune, 

That us governith alle in comune. 

And so bifel, that, long er it were day, 

This oon met in his bed, ther as he lay^ 

How that his felaw gan upon him calle? 

And sayd, ' alas ! for in an oxe stalle 16490 

This night I schal be murdrid ther I lye. 

Now help me, deere brother, or I dye ; 

In alle haste cum to me,' he sayde. 

This man out of his slep for fer abrayde ; 

But whan that he was waked out of his sleep, 

He torned him, and took of this no keep ; 

Him thought his dreem nas but a vanite. 

Thus twies in his sleepe dremed he. 

And at the thridde tyme yet his felawe 16500 

Com, as him thought, and sayd, ' I am now slawe ; 

Bihold my bloody woundes, deep and wyde. 

Arise up erly in the morwe tyde, 

And at the west gate of the toun,' quod he, 

* A cart of donge there schalt thou see, 

In which my body is hyd prively. 

Do thilke cart arresten boldely. 

My gold caused my mourdre, soth to sayn ' 

And told him every poynt how he Avas slayn. 

With a ful pitous face, pale of hewe. 

And truste wel, his dreem he fond ful trewe. 16510 

For on the morwe, ae sone as it was day, 

To his felawes in he took the M'ay ; 

And whan that he cam to this oxe stalle, 

After his felaw he bigan to calle. 

The hostiller answered him anoon. 

And sayde, ' Sire, your felaw is agoon, 

Als soone as day he went out of the toun.* 

This man gan faile iu a, suspeccioun. 



THE NONNE PBESTES TALE. 483 

Remeiiibring on his dremes that he mette, 

And forth he goth, no lenger wold he lette, 165261 

Unto the west gate of the toun, and fond 

A dong cart went as it were to donge lond, 

That Avas arrayed in the same wise 

As ye iian herd the deede man devise ; 

And with an hardy hert he gan to crie 

Vengeaunce and justice of thi^ felonye. 

• My felaw mordrid in this same night, 

And in tliis carte he hth heer upright. 

I crye out on the ministres,' quod he, 

' That schulpe kepe and reule this cite : 165u0 

narrow ! aUas ! her hth my felaw slayn I ' 

What schold I more unto this tale sayn ? 

The peple upstert, and caste the cart to grounde, 

And in the middes of the dong thay founde 

The dede man, that mordred was al newe, 

O blisful God, thou art ful just and trewe, 

Lo, how thow by wreyest mordre alday. 

Mordre wil out, certes it is no nay. 

Morder is so wlatsom and abhominable 

To God, that is so just and resonable, 16540 

That he ne wold nought suffre it hiled be ; 

Though it abyde a yeer, or tuo, or thre, 

Morder wil out, this is my conclusioun. 

And right anoon, the mynistres of that toun 

Han hent the carter, and so sore him pyned, 

And eek the hostiller so sore engyned, 

That thay biknew her wikkednes anoon. 

And were anhonged by the nekke boon. 

*' Here may men se that dremys ben to drede. 
And certes in the same book I rede, 16550 

Right in the nexte chapitre after this, 
(I gabbe nought, so have I joye or blis), 
Tuo men that wolde have passed over see 
For certeyn causes into fer contre, 
If that the wynd ne liadde ben contrarie, 
That made hem in a cite for to tarie, 
That stood ful mery upon an haven syde. 
But on a day, agayn the even tyde, 
The wynd gan chaunge, and blew right as hem list. 
Jolyf and glad they wenten unto rest, 16560 

And casten hem ful erly for to sayle ; 
But to that oon man fell a gi-et mervayle. 
That oon of hem in his slepyng as lie lay, 

IfiSL'S. hei'r vprif/hf. The Laiisd. Ms. reada gupiiKj upruj/Uf whicll is tho 
reading adopted by Tyrwliitt. 



484 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Him met a wonder drem, agayn the day ; 

Him thought a man stood by his beddes syde, 

And him comaunded, that he schuldabyde, 

And sayd him thus, ' if thou to morwe wende, 

Tliow schalt be dreynt ; my tale is at an ende.' 

He wook, and told his felaw what he mette, 

And prayde him his viage to lette, 16570 

As for that day, he prayd him for to abyde. 

His felaw that lay by his beddis syde, 

Gan for to 1 iwgh, and scorned him ful fast. 

* No dreeni," quod he, * may so myn herte gaste. 

That I wil lette for to do my thinges. 

I sette not a straw by thy dremynges, 

For swevens been but vanitees and japes. 

Men dreme al day of owles and of apes, 

And eke of many a mase ther withal ; 

Men dreme of thinges that never be schal. 16580 

But sith I see that thou wilt her abyde, 

And thus forslouthe wilfully thy tyde, 

God wot it reweth me, and have good day.* 

And thus he took his leve, and went his way. 

But er he hadde half his cours i-sayled, 

Noot I nought why, ne what meschaunce it ayled, 

But casuelly the schippes bothom rent, 

And schip and man under the watir went 

In sight of other schippes ther byside, 

That with him sailed at the same tyde. 16590 

"And therfore, faire Pertelot so deere, 
By such ensamples olde maistow leere 
That no man scholde be to recheles 
Of dremes, for I say the douteles, 
That many a dreem ful sore is for to drede. 
Lo, in the lif of seint Kenelm, I rede, 
That was Kenulphus sone, the noble king 
Of Mercenrike, how Kenilm mette a thing. 
A litil or he was mordred upon a day, 
His mordre in his avysionn he say. 16600 

His norice him expouned every del 
His sweven, and bad him for to kepe him wel 
For traisoun ; but he nas but seven yer old, 
And therefore litel tale hath he told 
Of eny drem, so holy was his hert. 

16580. nether be schal. I have not ventured to change the reading of the 
Harl. Ms. Tyrwhitt reads neve?- vhis ne shall. 

16596. Kenelm. Kenelm succeeded bis father, Kenulph, on the throne of 
the Mercians, in 821, at the age of seven years, and was murdered by order of 
his aunt, Quenedreda. He was subsequently made a saint, and his legend 
will be found in Capgrave, or in the Golden Legend. 



By God, I hadde lever than my schert, 

That ye had rad his legend, as have I. 

Dame Pertelot, I say yow trewely, 

Macrobius, that writ the avisioun 

In Auffrik of the worthy Cipioun, 10610 

AfTermeth dremes, and saith that thay been 

Warnyng of thinges that men after seen. 

And forthermore, I pray yow loketh wel 

In the olde Testament, of Daniel, 

If he huld dremes eny vanyte. 

Rede eek of Joseph, and ther schal ye see 

Whethir dremes ben som tyme (I say nought alle) 

Warnyng of thinges that schul after falle. 

Lok of Egipt the king, daun Pharao, 

His baker and his botiler also, 16620 

Whethir thay felte noon effect in dremis. 

Who so wol seke actes of sondry remys, 

May rede of dremes many a wonder thing. 

Lo Gresus, which that was of Lydes king, 

Mette he not that he sat upon a tre, 

Which signified he schuld hanged be ? 

Lo hir Andromachia, Ectors wif, 

That day that Ector schulde lese his lif, 

Sche dremed on the same night byforn, 

How that the iif of Ector schuld be lorn, 16630 

If tliilke day he wente to batayle ; 

Sche warned him, but it might nought availe ; 

He wente forth to fighte natheles, 

And he w^as slayn anoon of Achilles. 

But thilke tale is al to long to telle, 

And eek it is neigh day, I may not duclle. 

Schortly I say, as for conclusioun, 

That I schal hav) of this avisioun 

Adversite ; and I say forthermore. 

That I ne telle of laxatifs no store, 16640 

For thay ben venemous, I wot it wel ; 

I hem defye, I love hem never a del. 

" Now let us speke of mirthe, and lete al this ; 
Madame Pertilot, so have 1 blis, 
Of o thing God hath me sent large grace ; 
For whan I se the beaute of your face, 
Ye ben so scarlet hiew about your eyghen, 

16610. Cipioun. The Somnium Scipionis of Macrobius was a favorite work 
during the middle ages. 

lC->(')27. Lo hir Andromachia. Andromache's dream is related in the twenty- 
fourth chapter of Dai-is Phriigim : the authority for the history of the Trojan 
war most popular iu the middle ages. 



486 THE CANTERBUBY TALES. 

It makith al my drede for to deyghen, 

For, al so siker as In principio, 

Mulier est hominis confusio. 16650 

(Madame, the sentence of this Latyn is, 

Womman is mannes joye and mannes blis.) 

For whan I fiele a-night your softe syde, 

Al be it that I may not on you ryde, 

For that your perche is mad so narow, alias ! 

I am so ful of joye and solas, 

That I defye bothe sweven and drem." 

And with that word he fleigh doun fro the beem, 

For it was day, and eek his hennes alle ; 

And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle, 16660 

For he had found a corn, lay in the yerd. 

Real he was, he was nomore aferd ; 

He fetherid Pertelote twenty tyme. 

And trad as of te, er that it was prime. 

He lokith as it were a grim lioun ; 

And on his toon he rometh up and doun, 

Him deyned not to set his foot to grounde. 

He chukkith, whan he hath a corn i-founde, 

And to him rennen than his wifes alle. 

Thus real, as a prince is in his halle, 16670 

Leve I this Chaunteclere in his pasture ; 
And after wol I telle his aventure. 
Whan that the moneih in which the world bigan, 
That highte March, whan God maked first man, 
Was complet, and y-j^assed were also, 
Syn March by gan, tway monthes and dayes tuo, 
Byfel that Chaunteclere in al his pride, 
His seven wy ves walkyng by his syde, 
Oast up liis eyghen to the brighte'sonne, 
Tlmt in the signe of Taurus had i-ronne 16680 

Twenty degrees and oon, and somwhat more ; 
He knew by kynde, and by noon other lore. 
That it was prime, and crew with blisful Steven. 
*' The Sonne," he sayde, " is clomben up on heven 
Twenty degrees and oon, and more i-wis. 
Madame Pertelot, my worldes blis, 
Herknith these blisful briddes how thay synge, 

16676. Syn March bygan, (way monthes and dayes tuo. This is the reading 
of the Harleian ]\Is., and I see no reason to change it. Tyrwhitt reads, Sithcn 
March ended, ihriity dayes and tico, and observes, " I have ventured to dtv 
part from the jmss. and edit, in this passage. They all read began instead of 
ended. At the same time Ms. c. 1, has this note in the margin, ' i. '2° die 
Mail,' which plainly sufiposes that the thirty-two days nre to be reckoned 
from the end of March. At the vernal equinox (according to our author's 
hypothesis, Discourse, &c. p. 1G3) hai>peiied on the 12th of March, the )>lace 
of, the {juii (a& described iu vor. 15200, 1.) in 22P of Taurus agrees very nearly 



THE NONNE PBESTES TALE. 4^7 



And seth these freissche floures how thay springe ; 

Ful is myn hert of revel and solaas." 

But sodeinly him fel a sorwful caas ; 16600 

For ever tlie latter end of joye is wo. 

God wot that worldly joye is soone ago ; 

And if a rethor couthe faire endite, 

He in a chronique saufly might he write, 

As for a soverayn notabilite. 

Now every wys man let him herkne me ; 
This story is al so trewe, I undertake, 
As the book is of Launcelot the Lake, 
That womman huld in ful gret reverence. 
Now wol I torne agayn to my sentence. 16700 

A cole-fox, ful sleigh of iniquite, 
That in the grove had woned yeres thre. 
By heigh ymaginacioun forncast, 
The same niglite thurgh the liegge brast 
Inio the yerd, ther Chaunteclere the faire 
Was wont, and eek his wyves, to repaire ; 
And in a bed of wortes stille he lay. 
Til it was passed undern of the day, 
Waytyng his tyme on Chaunteclere to falle ; 
As gladly doon these homicides alle, 16710 

That in awaj-te lyn to morther men. 
O false mordrer lurckyng in thy den I 
O newe Scariot, newe Genilon ! 
Fals dissimulour, o Greke Sinon, 
That broughtest Troye al utrely to sorwe ! 
O Chauntecler, accursed be the morwe. 
That thou into the yerd flough fro the bemys I 
Thow were ful wel warned be thy dremys, 
That thilke day was perilous to the. 
But what that God for wot most needes be, 16720 

After the opynyoun of certeyn clerkis. 
Witnesse on him, that eny parfit clerk is, 
That in scole is gret altercacioun 
In this matier, and gret disjjutesoun, 

with his true place on the second of May, the fifty-third day incl. from the 
equinox. Ms. C. reads thus,— 

" Syn March began tway monthes and dayes two ; 
which brings us to the same day, but, I think, by a less jjrobable correction 
of the faulty copies." 

16685. Twenty degrees. " The reading of the greatest part of the Mss. is 
fourtii degrees. But this is evidently wrong ; for Chaucer is speaking of the 
altitude of the sun at or about prime, i. e. six o'clock a.m. See ver. 1520.3. 
When the sun is in 22° of Taurus, he is 21° high about three-quarters after six 
A.M."—Tyrtuhitf. 

16712. lurckyng. The Lansd. Ms. reads roukeing, and Tyrwhitt has rucK- 
tng. 



488 THE CANTEBBUBY TALES. 

And hath ben of an hundred thousend men. 

But yit I can not bult it to the bren, 

As can the holy doctor Augustyn, 

Or Boece, or the bischop Bradwardyn, 

Whether that Goddis worthy forwetyng 

Streigneth me needely for to do a thing, 16730 

(Needely cle^^e I simple necessite) ; 

Or elles if fre choys be graunted me 

To do that same thing, or to do it nought, 

Though God forwot it, er that it was wrought ; 

Or of his wityng streyneth never a deel, 

But by necessity condicionel. 

1 wol not have to do of such matiere ; 

My tale is of a cok, as ye schal hiere, 

That took his counseil of his wyf with sorwe 

To walken in the yerd upon the morwe, 16740 

That ho had met the dreme, that I tolde. 

Wymmens counseiles ben fui ofte colde ; 

Wommannes counseil brought us first to woo, 

And made Adam fro paradys to go, 

Ther as he was ful mery, and wel at ease. 

But for I not, to him it might displease, 

If 1 counseil of womman wolde blame, 

Pas over, for I sayd it in my game. 

Red auctours, wher thay trete of such matiere, 

And what thay sayn of wommen ye may heere. 16750 

These been the cokkes wordes, and not myne ; 

1 can noon harme of womman divine. 

Faire in the sond, to bathe hir merily, 
Lith Pertelot, and alle hir sustres by, 
Agayn thesonne ; and Chaunteclere so free 
Sang merier than the meremayd in the aee ; 
For Phisiologus seith sicurly. 
How that thay syngen wel and merily. 
And so byfel that as he cast his ye 

Among the wortes on a boterflye, 16760 

He was war of this fox that lay ful lowe. 
No thing ne list him thanne for to crowe. 
But cryde anon, " cok, cok," and up he stert, 
As man that was affrayed in his hert. 

16757. Phisiologus. This was the title given to a popular metrical T>a1 in 
treatise on the natures of animals, in the middle ages, wliich ^s frequently 
quoted by the early writers when alluding to subjects of natural history. Ih© 
chapter de Sirenis begins thus, — 

" SirenjB sunt monstra maris resonantia magpis 
Vocibus et modulis cantus formantia niultis, 
Ad quas incante veniunt ssepissime nautse, 
Quie faciunt souipnum uimia Uulcedinc vocupa.'* 



THE NONNE PRESTES TALE. 



m 



For naturelly a beest desireth flee 
Fro his con trade, if he may it see, 
Though he never er had sayn it with his ye. 
This Chaunteclere, whan he gan it aspje, 
He wold han fled, but that the fox anon 
Said, " gentil sire, alias ! why wol ye goon ? 16770 

Be ye affrayd of nie that am youre frend ? 
Cartes, I were worse than eny feend, 
If I to yow wold harm or vilonye. 
1 am nought come your counsail to espy 
Bat trewely the cause of my coming 
Was only for to herken how ye sing. 
For trewely ye have als mery a steven. 
As eny aungel hath, that is in heven ; 
Therwith he han of niusik more felynge, 
Than had Boece, or eny that can synge. 16780 

My lord your fader (God his soule blesse) 
And youre moder of her gentilesse 
Han in myn hous been, to my gret ease ; 
And certes, sire, ful fayn Avoid I yow please. 
Bat for men speke of syngyng, I wol say, 
So mot I brouke wel myn yen tway, 
Save ye, I herde never man so synge, 
As dede your fadlr in the morwenynge, 
Certes it was of hert al that he songo 
And for to make his vols the more strong, 16790 

He wold so i3eynen him, that with bothe his yen 
He moste wynke, so lowde he wolde crien, 
And stonden on his typtoon therwithal, 
And streche forth his necke long and smal. 
And eek he was of such discressioun. 
That ther nas no man in no regioun 
That him in song or wisdom mighte passe. 
1 have wel rad in daun Burnel thasse 
Among his verses, how ther was a cok. 
That, for a prestes sone gaf him a knok 16800 

Upon his leg, whil he was yong and nyce, 
He made him for to lese his benefice. 
But certeyn ther is no comparisoun 
Betwix the wisdom and discressioun 
Of youre fader, and of his subtilte. 

16770. loliy tool ye goon "> TyrwLitt follows the reading of Pome of the other 
Mss., and prints it, wliat wol ye don? , ,, ,. , 

16775. Two lines omitted here by accident in the Harl. Ms. are supplied 
from the Lansd. Ms. . i i ♦ i 

l(>7!t8. in daun Bnniel. The reference, of course, is to the celebratea 
eatircal poem of Nigellus Wireker, entitled Burntllus. It is one of the moat 
popular Latin poemtj of the middle ages. 



490 THE CANTEItBURT TALES. 

Now syngeth, sire, for seinte Charite ; 

Let se, can ye your fader countrefete ?" 

This Chaunteclere his wynges gan to bete, 

As man that couthe his tresoun nought espye, 

So was he ravyssht with his fiaterie. 1681Q 

Alias ! ye lordlynges, many a fals flatour 
Is in your hous, and many a losengour, 
That pleasen yow wel more, by my faith, 
Than he that sothfastnesse unto yow saith. 
Kedith Ecclesiast of fiaterie ; 
Beth war, ye lordes, of her treccherie. 

This Chaunteclere stood heighe upon his toos, 
Strecching his necke, and held his yhen cloos, 
And gan to crowe lowde for the noones ; 
And daun Russel the fox stert up at oones, 16820 

And by the garget hente Chaunteclere, 
And on his bak toward the woode him bere. 
For yit was there no man that him sewed. 
O desteny, that maist not ben eschiewed ! 
Alias, that Chaunteclere fleigh fro the bemis I 
Alias, his wif ne roughte nought of dremis ! 
And on a Friday fel al this mischaunce. 
O Venus, that art goddes of pleasaunce, 
Syn that thy servant was this Chaunteclere, 
And in thy service did al his j^owere, 16830 

More for delit, than the world to multiplie, 
Why woldest thou suffre him on thy day to dye ? 
O Gaufred, dere mayster soverayn. 
That, whan the worthy king Richard was slayn 
With schot, compleynedist his deth so sore, 

16812. hotis. The Landsdowne Ms. reads courte, which is adopted by Tyr- 
whitt. , ^ 

16820. fJaun HusseL Russel was a common name given to the fox, from 
his colour. , ,. , 

1683:^. O Gnnfred. Geoffray Vinsauf, the author of a celebrated medieval 
treatise on writing poetry, entitled Nova Poetria. Tyrwhitt has quoted the 
bombastic lines on tlie death of Richard I., which are given as a specimen of 
the plaintive style, and are here ridiculed by Chaucer. They are,— 

" Neustria, sub clypeo regis defensa Ricardi 
Indefensa modo, gestu testare dolorem. 
Exundent oculi lacrymas ; externiinet ora 
Pallor ; connodet digitos tortuva ; crnentet 
Interiora dolor, et verberet rfthera clamor. 
Tota peris ex morte sua. Mors non tuit ejus, 
Sed tua ; non una, sed publica mortis origo. 
O Veneris lacri/mosa dies ' o sydus amarum ! 
Ilia dies tua nox fuit, et Venus ilia venenum. 
lUa dedit vulnus," &c. 

These lines are sufficient to shew the object, and the propriety, of Chaucer's 
ridicule. The whole poem is printed in Leyser's Hist. Po. Med. Ji.vi, p. 
862—978, 



THE NONNE PRESTES TALE. 491 



Why ne had I nought thy sentence and thy lore, 

The Friday for to chiden, as dede ye ? 

(For on a Fryday sothly slayn was he.) 

Than wolde I schewe how that I couthe pleyne, 

For Chauntecleres drede, and for his peyne. 1G840 

Certis such cry ne lamentacioun 
"Was never of ladies maad, whan Ilioun 
Was wonne, and Pirrus with his strit swerd. 
Whan he had hente kyng Priam by the l)erd, 
And slaugh him (as saith us Eneydos), 
As maden alle the hennes in the clos, 
Whan thay had sayn of Chauntecler the sight. 
Bat soveraignly dam Pertelote schright, 
Ful lowder than did Hasdrubaldes wyf, 
Whan that hir housebond had lost his lyf, 16850 

And that the Romayns had i-brent Cartage, 
Sche was so ful of torment and of rage, 
That wilfully unto the fuyr sche stert, 
And breTid hirselven with a stedfast hert. 
O woful henries, right so cride ye, 
As, whan that Nero brente the cite 
Of Rome, criden the senatoures wj^ves, 
For that her housbondes losten alle here Ij^ves ; 
Withouten gult this Nero hath hem slayn. 

Now wol I torne to my matier agayn. 16860 

The sely wydow, and hir doughtres tuo, 
Ilerden these hennys crie and maken avo. 
And out at dores starte thay anoon, 
And sayden the fox toward the woode is goon, 
And bar upon his bak the cok away ; 
They criden, " out ! harrow and waylewa}'- 1 
Ha, ha, the fox ! " and after him thay ran^ 
And eek with staves many another man ; 
Ran Colle our dogge, and Talbot, and Garlond, 
And Malkyn, with a distaf in hir bond ; 16870 

Ran cow and calf, and eek the verray hogges 
So were they fered for berkyng of dogges, 
And schowtyng of the men "and wymmen eke, 
Thay ronne that thay thought her herte breke, 
Thay yelleden as feendes doon in helle ; 
The dokes criden as men wold hem quelle ; 
The gees for fere flowen over the trees ; 
Out of the hyve came the swarm of bees ; 
So hidous was the noyse, a benedicite ! 

16836. sentence. This is tlie reading of the Ilarl. aud Lansd. Mss. : Tyr- 
Whitt prints science, which weakens the sense. 
16884. homes. Tyrwbiit reads Oeemes. 



492 THE CANTEBBlTItT TAtm. 

Certes he Jakke Straw, and his meyne, 16880 

Ne iDaden schoutes never half so schriile, 

Whan that thay wolden eny Flemyng kille, 

As thilke day was uiaad upon the fox. 

Of bras thay broughten homes and of box, 

Of horn and boon, in which thay blew and powped, 

And therwithal thay schryked and thay howped ; 

It seemed as that heven schulde falle. 

NoAv, goode men, I pray herkneth alle ; 
Lo, how fortune torneth sodeinly 

The hope and pride eek of her enemy. 16890 

This cok that lay upon this foxes bak, 
In al his drede, unto the fox he si)ak, 
And saide, " sire, if that I were as ye, 
Yet schuld I sayn (as wis God helpe me), 
Turneth agein, ye proude cherles alle ; 
A verray pestilens upon yow falle. 
Now am I come unto this woodes syde, 
Maugre youre hede, the cok schal heer abyde ; 
I wol him ete in faith, and that anoon." 
The fox answerd, " in faith, it schal be doon." 16900 
And whil he spak that word, al sodeinly 
This cok brak from his mouth delyverly, 
And heigh upon a tree he fleigh anoon. 
And whan the fox seigh that he was i-goon, 
" Alias ! " quod he, " o Chaunteclere, alias 1 
I have to yow," quod he, " y-don trespas, 
Inasmoche as I makid yow aferd. 
Whan I yow iient, and brought out of the yerd ; 
But, sire, I dede it in no wicked entent ; 
Com doun, and I schal telle yow what I ment, 16910 
I schal say soth to yow, God help me so." 
*' Nay than," quod he, " I schrew us bothe tuo. 
And first I schrew myself, both blood and boones, 
If thou bigile me any ofter than oones. 
Thou schalt no more thurgh thy flaterye 
Do me to synge and wynke with myn ye. 
For he that wynkith, whan he scholde see, 
Al wilfully, God let him never the." 
*' Nay," quod the fox, " but God give him meschaunce, 
That is so undiscret of govern aunce, 16920 

That jangleth, whan he scholde holde his pees." 

Lo, such it is for to be recheles, 
And necgligent, and trust on fiaterie. 
But ye that holde this tale of folye, 

16890. enemy. The Harl. Ms. reads envy ; but as this does not seem tO 
make good sense, 1 Lave taken the reading printed by Tyrwhitt, 



THE PROLOGE OF THE MAUNCIPLES TALE. 493 

As of a fox, or of a cok or hen, 
Takith the morahte therof, goode men. 
For seint Poul saith, that all that vvriten is, 
To oure doctrine it is i-write i-wis. 
Takith the fruyt, and let the* chaf be stille. 

Now, goode God, if that it be thy wille, 16930 

As saith my lord, so make us alle good men ; 
And bring us alle to his blisse. Amen. 

THE PROLOGE OP THE MAUNCIPLES TALE. 

Wot ye not wher ther stont a litel toun, 
Which that cleped is Bob-up-and-doun, 
Under the Ble, in Caunterbury way ? 

1G931. As saith nuj lord. " Opposite to this verse, in the margin of Ms. c 
1, is written Kauntuar, which means, I suppose, that some Archhishop of 
Canterbury is qviOte(\.."—Tijrwhitt. 

16932. In the MS. in which the Nun's Priest's tale is followed by that of 
the Nun, sixteen lines are inserted here, which are given as follows by 
Tyrwhitt,— 

Sire Nonnes Freest, our hoste sayde anon, 

Yblessed be thy breche and every ston. 

This was a mery tale of Chaunleclere. 

But by my trouthe, If thou were seculere, 

Thou woldest ben a tredefoule aright : 

For if thou had corage as thou bast might, 

Thee were nede of hennes, as 1 wene, 

Ye mo than seven times seventene. 

Se, whiche braunes hath this gentil preest. 

So gret a necke, and swiclie a large breest i 

He loketh as asparhauk with his eyen ; 

Him nedeth not his colour for to dien 

With Brasil, ne with grain of Portingal. 
But, sire, I'aire falle you for your tale. 

And after that, he with f ul mery chere 

Sayd to another, as ye shulen here. 

Whatever be the authority of these lines, they are evidently imperfect at the 
end, and Tyrwhiit printed them as being so ; but two Mss. which he ex- 
amined gaye the last of them thus,— 

"Seide unto the nunne as ye shul heer." 
And added the following lines to fill up the apparent vacuum,— 
" Madame, and I dorste, I wolde you pray 

To telle a tale in fortheringe of our way. 

Than mighte ye do unto us grete ese. 

Gladly, sire, quoth she, so that I might plese 

Yop and this worthy company, 

And began hire tale riht thus ful sobrely." 

16934. Bob-tip-nvfl-flniin. This appears to have been the popular name for 
the village of llaibledown, a short <lislaMce from Canterbury, which by its 
situation on a hill, and the ups and downs on the r<>ad, merits well .-;uch an 
appellation. It stands on the edge of tbe Blc, or Blean Forest, which was 
formerly celebrated for its wildiiess. Erasmus, in one of his colloquies, the 
PUgrtnutqe for reliqion's saL-e, describes tliis place exactly, when he tells us 
that, " tlio^'e who journey to Loudon, not long after leaving Canterbury, find 
themselves ii a road at once very liollow and narrow, and besides the banks 
on either side are so steep and abrupt that you cannot escape." See Mr. J. 
e. Nichols's translation of the Pilgrimage of Erasmus, p. 60. 



494 TUB CANTERBURY TALES. 



There gan our hoste for to jape and play, 

And sayde, " sires, what ? Dun is in the myre. 

Is ther no man for prayer ne for hyre, 

That wol awake our felawe al byhynde ? 

A theef mighte ful hghtly robbe and bynde. 16940 

Se how he nappith, se for Goddes boones, 

That he wol falle fro his hors at ones. 

Is that a cook of Londoune, with nieschaunce ? 

Do him come forth, he knoweth his penaunce ; 

For he schal telle a tale, by my fay. 

Although it be nought worth a hotel hay. 

Awake, thou cook, sit up, God gif the sorwe ! 

What eyleth the, to slepe bj^ the morwe ? 

Hast thou had fleen al night or artow dronke ? 

Or hastow with som quen al night i-swonke, 1G950 

So that thou maist not holden up thyn heed ?" 

This cook, that was ful pale and nothing reed, 

Sayd to our host, " So God my soule blesse, 

As ther is falle on me such hevynesse. 

Not I nought why, that me were lever slepe, 

Than the beste galoun wyn that is in Chepe." 

" Well," quod the Maunciple, *' if that I may doon 
ease 
To the, sir Cook, and to no wight displease 
Which that her rydeth in this compaignye, 
And our host wolde of his curteisie, 16960 

I wol as now excuse the of thy tale ; 
For in good faith thi visage is ful pale. 
Thyn eyen daswen eek, al so me thinkith, 
And wel I woot, thj'- bretli ful foule stynkith, 
That scheweth eek thou art nought wel disposid ; 

16944, Do him come forth. Tyrwliitt observes on this,—" The rommon 
reading is— do him comfort. The alteration is material, not only as it. gives a 
clearer sense, but as it intimates ta us that the narrator of a tale was made 
to come out of the crowd, aud to take his place within hearing of the host, 
during his narration. Agreeably to this uoLion when the host calls upon 
Chaucer, ver. 13628, he says, 

Approche nere, and loke up merily. 

Now ware you, sires, and let this man have place. 

It was necessary that the host, who was to be " juge and reportour" of the 
tales (ver. S16), should hear them all distinctly. The others might hear as 
nmch as ihey could, or as they chose, of them. It would have required the 
lungs of a Stentor to spi^ak audibly to a company of thirty people, trotting on 
together in a road of the fourteenth century." We must, liowever, not take 
things too literally in the Canterburji Tuba, for it is evident tliat the Manci- 
ples tale, and th'j long discourse of th^ p>irson, would require more than could 
be allowed by the dist.inc.^ between Harbledowu ami Canterbury, and we 
might suppose they proceed very slowly, and such as listened to the tale kept 
round the speaker, and i)roI)ably halted from time to time. 

16!>48. To slepe bif fhe moriv<\ " This must be understood generally for the 
day-time: as it was theuafteruoou."— 2'^rM;/u«. 



TBE PROLOGE OF THE MAUNCIPLES TALE 495 



Of me certeyn thou schalt nought ben i-glosed. 

Se how he ganith, lo, this dronken wight, 

As though he wolde swolwe us anoon right. 

Hold clos vhy mouth, man, by thy fader kynne ! 

The devel of helle sette his foot therinne ! 16970 

Thy cursed breth effecte wil us alle. 

Fy, stynkyng swyne ! foule mot the falle ! 

A ! takitii heed, sires, of this lusty man. 

Now, svvete sir, wol ye joust atte fan? 

Therto, me thinkth, ye beth right wel i-schape. 

1 trowe that ye dronken han wyn of ape, 

And that is whan men playen with a straw." 

And with his speche the Cook wax angry and wraw. 
And on the Maunciple bygan he nodde fast 
For lak of speche ; and doun the hors him cast, 16980 
Wher as he lay, til that men him up took. 
This was a fair chivache of a cook ! 
Alias ! that he had hold him by his ladil 
And er that he agayn were in his sadil, 
Ther was gret schowvyng bothe to and fro 
To lift him up, and moche care and wo, 
So unwelde was this sory pallid gost. 
And to the Municiple thanne spak oure host : 
" Bycause drink hath dominacioun 
Upon this man, by my savacioun 16990 

1 trow he lewedly tel wol his tale. 
For were it wyn, or old moysty ale, 
That he hath dronk, he spekith in his nose, 
And snesith fast, and eek he hath the pose. 

16967. fjanithyX. e. yawna. This is certainly a better reading than Tyr- 
whitt's ga/pi'th. The Lansd. Ms. reads goth. 

umi. cffccte. Tyrwhitt has enfecten, which is perhaps the better reading. 

ItJ'JTi. vol ijejoast atte Jan? Some Mss- read van. The sense of both 
words is tlie same. " The thing meant is the quintaine, which is called a fan 
or vane, from its turning round like a weathercock." — Tyrivliltt. 

1«;»T6. ivijn of ape. " This is the reading of the best manuscripts, and I 
believe the'true one. The explanatiop in the Gloss, of this and the preced- 
ing pa.ssage, from Mr. Speght, is too ridiculous to be repeated. Wine of ape 
1 uuderstund to mean the same as vin de singe In the old Calendrier des Her- 
gii-rs, sign 1. ii. b. The author is treating of uhysiognomy, and in hisdcst ri[>- 
tion of the four temptuainents, he mentions, 'among other circumstances, the 
ditlerent eilccts of wine upon him. The choleric, he s^ays. a vTn de lijon : c< st 
uiliic, (juant <i bien ben ueult tanser, noi/ser, e.f battre- -the sanguine, a vin de 
singi; ; quum a. plus beu taut est plus joyeux—u\ the same manner the phleg- 
matic is said to have vin de mouton, and the melancholic vin de porcemi. I 
find tliH same four animals applied to illustrate the ett'ect« of wine in a little 
Kabbini(!al tradition, which 1 shall transcribe herefrom Fabric. Cod. Pseude- 
pig. V. T. vol. i. p. 27.5. Vineas plantanti Aoacfio Satanam se iaii.cisse memor- 
ant, (/ui, dum Noa vites plantaret, viactaverit apitd i/las oveni, Iconem. simiam, 
«/ seum : qnod principio potus vini homo sit iiistar ov\^,viituni sn)ii/>fiiin ('(ficiat 
ex hominc Jeoucm, iargius haustum, niutet eum in saltanlem simiam. ad cbrie- 
tiitt^m infustun I'-ansfonnet i/luin in poUntam et prostratam suem. See also 
Cesta Itomanoram, c. 15(», where a story of the same purport is quoted from 
tJosephus, in lil/ro de casu ret^uni naturalium."—'I'ijrw/uU» 



496 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



He also hath to do more than y-nough 

To kepe him and his capil out of the slough ; 

And if he falle fro his «apil eftsone, 

Than schal we alle have y-n®ugh to doone 

In liftyng up his hevy dronken cors. 

Tel on thy tale, of him make I no fors. 17000 

But yit, Maunciple, in faith thou art to nyce, 

Thus openly reproeve him of his vice ; 

Another day he wil par adventure 

Reclayme the, and bringe the to lure ; 

I mene, he speke wol of smale thinges, 

As for to pynchyn at thy rekenynges, 

That were not honest, if it cam to pref." 

Quod the Maunciple, " That were a gret meschief ; 

So might he lightly bringe me in the snare. 

Yit had I lever payen for the mare 17010 

Which he ryt on, than he schuld with me stryve. 

I wil not wrath him, al so mot I thrive ; 

That that I spak, I sayd it in my bourde. 

And wite ye what? I have heer in a gourde 

A draught of wyn, is of a ripe grape. 

And right anoon ye schal se a good jape. 

This cook schal drinke therof , if I may ; 

Up peyn of deth he wol nought say me nay," 

And certeinly, to tellen as it was, 

Of this vessel the cook dronk fast (alias ! 17020 

What needid it ? he drank y-nough biforn); 

And whan he hadde pouped in his horn, 

To the Maunciple he took the gourd agayn. 

And of that draught the cook was wonder fayn, 

And thanked him in such wise as he couthe. 

Than gan our host to laughe wonder louthe, 

And sayd, " I se wel it is necessarie 

Wher that we go good drynk with us to carie ; 

For that wol torne rancour and desese 

To accord and love, and many a wrong apese. 17030 

O thou Bacus, i-blessid be thin name, 

That so canst torne ernest into game ; 

Worschip and thonke be to thy deite I 

Of that matier ye get no more of me. 

Tel on thi tale, Mauncipel, I the pray." 

" Wel, sir," quod he, " now hearkyn what I say." 

17030. a wrong apese. I take Tyrwhitt's reading of this passage, because 
no better reading presents itself. The MSS. seem in general more or less 
corrupt. The Harl. Ms. reads ma7iy racourpese; while in the Lansd. Ms. it 
ijtauds mony tvorde to pese. 




THE MAUNCIPLES TALE. 

Whan Phebus duelt her in this erthe adoun, 

As olde bookes maken mencioun, 

He was the moste lusty bachiler 

Of al this world, and eek the best archer. 17040 

He slough Phiton the serpent, as he lay 

Slepyng agayn the sonne upon a day ; 

And many another noble worthy dede 

He with his bowe wrought, as men may rede. 

Pleyen he coutlie on every mynstralcye, 

And syngen, that it was a melodye 

To heren of his cleere vols the soun, 

Certes the kyng of Thebes, Amphioun, 

That with his singyng wallid that citee, 

Couth never synge half so wel as he. 17050 

Th^rto he was the semlieste man, 

That is or was, siththen the world bigan ; 

What nedith it his fetures to descrive ? 

For in this worlde, is noon so faire on lyve. 

He was therwith fulfild of gentilesce, 

Of honour, and of parfyte worthinesse. 

This Phebus, that was flour of bachilerie, 
As M'el in fredom, as in chivalrie, 
For to disport, in signe of victorie 

Of Phiton, so as telleth us the storie, 1706C 

Was wont to be re in his hond a bowe. 
Now had this Phebus in his hous a crowe. 
Which in a cage he fostred many a day, 
And taught it speken, as men doon a jay. 
Whit was this crowe, as is a snow- why t swan, 
And countrefete the speche of every man 
He couthe, whan he schulde telle a tale. 
Ther is withinne this world no nightingale 
Ne couthe by au hundred thousand del 
Singe so wonder merily and wel. 17070 

The Maunciples Tale. This tale is, of course, a medieval version of an old 
classic story, the original of which vrill be found in the ^f^'taTnorphosfs of 
Ovid. It is found in medieval writers under a variety of forms. One of them 
occurs in the old collection of tales entitled the .Seven Sages ; another version 
is given in Gower. 

iTO.'v?. fetures. The Harl- Ms. reads/()r/?m<' , but the reading I have here 
adopted from the Lansd. Ms. is evidently the more correct one. 

17054. so fn'ire. The Harl. Ms. has hnre, ag.iin. wliat appears to be an 
incorrect reading, ncou such, on lyve, and 1 have again followed the Laued, 
Bis. 

82 



498 THE CANTEBBUBY TALES. 



Now had this Phebus in his hous a wj^f, 
Which that he loved more than his lif, 
And night and day did evermore dihgence 
Hir for to please, and doon hir reverence ; 
Sauf oonly, if the soth that schal sayc, 
Jalous he was, and wold have kept hir fayn. 
For him were loth bijaped for to be ; 
And so is every wight in such degre ; 
But al for nought, /or it Povaileth nought 
A good wyf, that is clene of werk and thought, 17080 
Schuld not be kept in noon fiwayt certayn ; 
And trewei;, th: labour is in vayn 
To kepe a schrewe, for it wil nought be. 
This hold I for a verray nycete, 
To spille labour for to kepe wyves ; 
Thus olde clerkes writen in her lyves. 
But now to purpos, as I first bigan. 
This worthi Phebus doth al that he can 
To pleasen hir, wonyng by such x^leasaunce, 
And for his manhod and his governaunce, 17090 

That no man schuld ban put him fro hir grace. 
Put God it woot, ther may no man embrace 
As to distroy a thing, the which nature 
Hath naturelly set in a creature. 
Tak any brid, and put him in a cage. 
And do ai thin entent, and thy corrage, 
To foster it tenderly with mete and drynk, 
And with alle the deyntees thou canst think, 
And keep it al so kyndly as thou may ; 
Although his cage of gold be never so gay, 17100 

Yit hath this brid, by twenty thousand fold, 
Lever to be in forest, wyld and cold, 
Gon ete wormes, and such wrecchidnes. 
For ever this brid wil doon his busynes 
To scape out of his cage whan he may ; 
His liberte the brid desireth aye. 
Let take a cat, and foster him wel with mylk 
And tender fieisch, and make his bed of silk, 
And let him see a mous go by the wal, 
Anoon he wayveth mylk and fieische, and al, 17110 

17093. distroy. The Lansd. Ms. has discri/ve, and Tyrwliitt has adopted 
disireine, which may perhaps be the best reading. 

1701)5. Tak ant/ brid. This and the following examples are all taken, as 
observed by Tyrwhitt, from the Roman de la Hose, but it is hardly necessary 
to give particular references to each. 

17108. his bed. The Lansd. Ms. reads co«c.V, which is adopted by Tyr- 
whitt. It may be observed that Tyrwhitt's text speaks of the cat in the 
feminine gender, whereas the Harl. aud Lansd. Mss. use the masculine, as ia 
tlie present text- 



THE 3IAUNCIPLES TALE. 499 



And every deynte which is in that hous, 

Such appetit hath he to ete the mous. 

Lo, heer hath kynd his doniinaciouu, 

And appetit flenieth discretioun. 

Al so a sche wolf hath a vilayns kynde ; 

The lewidest wolf that sche may fynde, 

Or lest of reputacioun, him wol sche take 

In tyme whan hir lust to have a make. 

Alle this ensamples tel I by this men 

That ben untrewe, and nothing by wommen. 17120 

For men han ever a licorous appetit 

On lower thing to parforme her delit 

Than on her wyves, ben thay never so fah-e, 

Ne never so trewe, ne so debonaire. 

Fleissch is so newfangil, with meschaunce, 

That we can in no thinge have plesaunce 

That souneth into vertue eny while. 

This Pliebus, which that thought upon no gile, 

Decey ved was for all his jolite ; 

For under him another hadde sche. 17130 

A man of litil reputacioun, 

IS^ought worth to Pliebus in comparisoun ; 

Mor harm it is ; it happeth ofte so ; 

Of which ther cometli both harm and woo. 

And so bifel, whan Phebus was absent, 
His wif anoon hath for hir lemman sent. 
Hir lemman ? certes, this is a knavisch speche. 
Forgiveth it me, and that I vow biseche. 
The wise Plato saith, as ye may rede, 
The word mot neede accorde with the dede, 17140 

If men schal telle propurly a thing. 
The word mot corde with the thing werkyng 
I am a boystous man, right thus say I ; 
Ther is no diiference trewely 
Bytwix a wyf that is of heigh degre, 
(K of hir body dishonest sche be) 
And a pore wenche, other then this 
(If so be thay werke bothe amys), 
But that the gentil in estat above 

Sche schal be cleped his lady as in love ; 17150 

And, for that other is a pore womman, 
Sche schal be cleped his wenche and his lemman | 
And God it wot, my good lieve brother, 
Men layn that oon as lowe as lith that other. 

17142. mot conlewiih the thhnj werkyng. This is the reading of the Harl. 
M:?., which makes perfectly good sense. Tyrwhitt, like the Lunad. Ms., reads 
must cos in be to the wevkiny. 



500 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Right so bitwixe a titleles tirant 

And an outlawe, or a thef erraunt. 

The same I say, ther is no difference 

(To Alisaunder told was this sentence), 

But, for the tiraunt is of gretter might 

By force of meyne for to sle doun right, 17160 

And brenne hous and home, and make al phi^yn, 

Lo, therfor is he cleped a capitayn ; 

And, for an outlawe hath so smal meyne, 

And may not doon so gret an harm as he, 

Ne bringe a contre to so gret meschiei, 

Men olepen him an outlawe or a theef, 

But, for I am a man not texted wel, 

I wil not telle of textes never a del ; 

I wol go to my tale, as I bigan. 

Whan Phebus wyf had sent for hir lemman, 17170 
Anon thay wroughten al hir wil volage. 
This white crow, that heng alway in cage, 
Bihild her werk, and sayde never a word. 
And whan that horn was come Phebus the lord, 
This crowe song, " cuckow, cuckow, cuckow ! " 
"What? brid," quod Phebus, '* what song syngistow 

now ? 
Ne were thou wont so merily to synge, 
That to myn hert it was a rejoysynge 
To here thi vols ? alias ! what song is this ? " 
" By God," quod he, ' I synge not amys. 1718C 

Phebus," quod he, '* for al thy worthynes. 
For al thy beaute, and thy gentiles, 
For alle thy songes, and thy menstraloie, 
For al thy Avaytyng, blered is thin ye, 
With oon of litel reputacioun. 
Nought worth to the as in comparisoun 
The mountauns of a gnat, so mot I thrive ; 
For on thy bed thy wif I saugh him swyve." 
What wol ye more ? the crowe anoon him tolde, 
By sadde toknes, and by wordes bolde, 17190 

How that his wyf had doon hir leccherie 
Him to gret schame, and to gret vilonye ; 
And told him oft he saugh it with his yen. 
This Phebus gan away- ward for to wryen j 
Him thought his sorwful brast on tuo. 
His bowe he bent, and sett therin a flo ; 
And in his ire he hath his wyf i-slayn ; 
This is theffect, ther is no more to sayn. 

nir)5. a Titlelefi. This is Tyrwhitt's reading ; the Hari. Ms. has atticteSt 
^liicii Id evitieutly corrupt, and iiie Laus^i. a tUks, 



•^ F 



THE MA UNCJPLES 7\ . LE 501 



For sorw of which he brak his iDenstralcye, 

Bothe harp and lute, gitern, and sauterie ; 17200 

And eek he brak his arwes, and his bowe ; 

And after that thus spake he to the crowe ; 

'* Traytour,'' quod he, " with tunge of scorpioun, 

Thow hast me brought to my confusioun ; 

Alias that I was born ! why nere I deed ? 

O dere wyf, O gemme of lustylied, 

Tliat were to me so sad, and eek so trewe, 

Now list thou dee^, with face pale of hewe, 

Ful gulteles, that dorst I swere y-wis. 

O racle bond, to do so foule amys. 17210 

O trouble wit, O ire recheles, 

That unavysed smytest gulteles. 

O wantrust, ful of fals suspeccioun, 

Wher was thy wit and thy discrecioun ? 

O, every man be ware of raclenesse, 

JNe trowe no thing withoute gret witnesse, 

Smyt nought to soone, er that thou wite why 

And be avysed wel and sobrely, 

Er ye doon eny execucioun 

Upon your ire for suspeccioun. 220 

Alias ! a thousand folk hath racle ire 

Fordoon, or Dun hath brought hem in myre. 

Alias ! for sorw I wil myselven sle." 

And to the crowe, "O false theef," sayd he, 

*' I wil the quyt anoon thy false tale. 

Thow songe whilom, as any nightyngale, 

Now schaltow, false thef, thy song fcjrgoon, 

And eek thy white fetheres, evericboon, 

Ne never in al thj'- lyf ne schaltow speke ; 

Thus seal men on a fals theef ben aAvreke. 17330 

Thou and thin ofspring ever schuln he blake, 

Ne never sweete noyse schul ye make. 

But ever crye agayn tempest and rayn, 

In tokenyng that thurgh the my wyf was slayn." 

And to the crowe he stert, and that anoon, 
And puld his white fetheres everyehoon, 
And made him blak, and raft him al his song, 
And eek his speche, and out at dore him slong 
Unto the devel, which I him by take ; 
And for this cause ben alle crowes blake. 17?40 

Lordyngs, by this ensample, I yow pray, 
Beth war, and taketh kepe what ye say ; 

17222. Du7i. See before, 1. ir.937. It is said that this proverbial expreB^ion 
arose from a popular game, which was in use as hile as the, beginniug of the 
seventeenth century, and is alluded to in the early dramatists. l>un, of 
couTbe, is the uaiue of a huise, 



602 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Ne teilith never man in al youre lif, 
How that another man hath dight his wyf ; 
He wol yow hatin mortely certeyn. 
Daun Salamon, as wise clerkes seyn, 
Techeth a man to kepe his tonge wel. 
But, as I sayd, I am nought tixted wel 
But natheles thus taughte me my dame ; 
"My sone, thenk on the crowe, in Goddes name. 17250 
My son, keep wel thy tonge, and kep thy frend ; 
A wicked tonge is worse than §t feend ; 
My sone. fro a feend men may hem blesse. 
My sone, God of his endeles goodnesse 
Wallid a tonge with teeth, and hppes eek, 
For man schal him avyse that he speek. 
My sone, ful ofte for to mochil speche 
Hath many a man be spilt, as clerkes teche ; 
But for a litil speche avisily 

Is no mau schent, to speke generally. 17260 

My sone, thy tonge scholdest thou restreigne 
At alle tyme, but whan thou dost thou peyne 
To speke of God in honour and in prayere. 
The lirste vertue, sone, if thou wilt lere, 
Is to restreigne and kepe wel thy tonge ; 
Thus lerne clerkes, whan that thay ben yonge. 
My sone, of mochil speking evel avised, 
Tiier lasse speking had y-nough suffised, 
Cometh mochil harm ; thus was me told and taught ; 
In mochel speche synne wantith nought. 17270 

Wost thou wlierof a racle tonge serveth ? 
Kight as a swerd for-kutteth and for-kerveth 
An arm atuo, my dere sone, right so 
A tonge cutteth frendschip al atuo. 
A j angler is to God abhominable. 
Red Salomon, so wys and honurable, 
Red David in his Psalmes, reed Senek. 
My sone, spek not, but with thy heed thou bek, 
Dissimul as thou were deed, if that thou heere 
A jangler speke of perilous mateere. 17280 

The Flemyng saith, and lere it if the lest, 
That litil jangling causeth mochil rest. 
My sone, if thou no wikked word has sayd, 1 
The thar not drede for to be bywrayd ; 
But he that hath myssayd, I dar wel sayn, 
17264. The Hrste vertue. This is takeu from Cato de Moribus, lib. i. dist. 

Virtutein primara esse puta compescere luiguam. 
Cato was one of the first bool<s put into the hands of young scholars, whicb 
explains the le-marKs liere mad.; in line 17266. 



THE PROLOGE OF THE PERSONES TALE. »'A)3 

He may by no way clepe his word agayn. 

Thing that is sayd is sayd, and forth it goth, 

Thou him repent, or be him never so loth, 

He is his thral, to whom that he hath sayd 

A tale, of which he is now yvel apayed. 17290 

My sone, be war, and be noon auctour newe 

Of tydyngs, whether thay ben fals or trewe ; 

Wher so thou comest, amonges heih or lowe, 

Kep wel thy tonge, and thenk upon the crowe." 

THE PROLOGE OF THE PERSOiJfES TALE. 

Bt that the Maunciple had his tale endid, 

The Sonne fro the south line is descendid 

So lowe, that it nas nought to my sight 

Degrees nyne and twenty as in hight. 

Ten on the clokke it was, as I gesse, 

For enleven foote, or litil more or lesse, 17300 

My schadow was at thilk tyme of the yerc, 

Of which feet as my lengthe parted were 

In sixe feet equal of proporcioun. 

Therwith the mones exaltacioun, 

In mena Libra, alway gan ascende, 

17291. be noon auctour newe. This also is taken from Cato, lib. i. dist. 2,— 
Rumores fuge, ne iucipias novu& auctor haberi, 
Which Chaucer seems to have read,— 

Rumoris fuge ne iucipias novus auctor haberi. 

17299. Ten. I have not ventured to change the reading of the Karl. Ms., 
which is partly supported by that of the Lansd. Ms. T/ian. Tyrwhitt, who 
rends foure, makes the following observation on this passage : "In this Pro- 
logue, which introduces the last tale upon the journey to Canterbury. 
Chaucer has again pointed out to us the time of the day ; but the hour by the 
clock is very dilferently represented in the MSS. In some it is ten, in others 
tiro, ii: most of the best MSs. /oitre " (Tyrwhitt's judgment of the Mss. is not 
to be depended upon), " and in one five. According to the pha^nomena li(>re 
mentioned, the sun being 29" high, and the length of the shadow to the pro- 
jecting l)ody as eleven to six, it was between foure andfii'e. As by this reck- 
oning Uiere were at least three hours left to sunset, one does not well see with 
what propriety the host admonishes the person to /ta.sVe him, because ' the 
Sonne wol adnun,' and to be \fructnous in titel space i^ :ind indeed the person, 
knowing probably how much time he had good, seems to have paid not the 
least regard to his admonition ; for his tale, if it may be so called, is twice as 
long as any of the otliers. It is entitled in some mss- ' Tractatus de Poenit en- 
tin, profafmla, ut dicitur, Pectoris ;' and I much suspect that it is a transla- 
tion of some such treatise." 

17305. In mena Libra. " This is a very obscure passage. Some of the MSS. 
read I mene Libra. According to the reading which I have followed, exalta- 
tion iri not to be considered as a technical term, but as signifying simply 
rising ; and the sense will be, that the moon^s rising in the middle of LUmi, 
tras continually ascendinq, etc. If exaltation be taken in its technical mean- 
ing, as explained in a for'mer note, it will be impossible to make any sense of 
either of the readinsis : for the exaltation of the moon was not in Libra, bnl in 
Taaras. Kalendrierdes Berqiers, sign. I. ult. Mr. Speght, I suppose, being 
awai e of tliis, altered Libra iiito Taums ; but he did not cyusider that the euu, 



504 



TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



As we were entryng at a townes ende. 

For which our host, as he was wont to gye, 

Asia tliis caas, our joly compaignye, 

Sayd in this wise : '* Lordings, everichoon, 

Now lakketh us no moo tales than oon, 17310 

Fulfilled is my sentens and my decre ; 

1 trowe that we han herd of ech degre. 

Almost fulfilled is myn ordynaunce ; 

I pray to Grod so geve him right good chaunce, 

That tellith to us his tale lustily. 

Sir prest," quod he, " artow a vicory? 

Or artow a persoun ? say soth, by thy fay. 

Be what thou be, ne breke nought oure play ; 

For every man, save thou, hath told his tale. 

Unbocle, and schew us what is in thy male. 17320 

For trewely me thinketh by thy chier, 

Thou scholdist wel knyt up a gret niatier. 

Tel us a tale anoon, for cokkes boones ! " 

This Persoun him answerde al at oones ; 
" Thou getist fable noon i-told for me, 
For Poul, that writes unto Timothe, 
Repreveth hem that weyveth sothfastnesse, 
And tellen fables, and such wrecchednesse. 
Why schuld 1 so wen draf out of my fest, 
Whan I may sowe whete, if that me lest? 17330 

For which I say, if that yow lust to hiere 
Moralite and vertuous matiere, 
And thanne that ye will give me audience, 
I wol ful fayn at Cristis reverence 
Do yow plesaunce leful, as I can. 
But trusteth wel, I am a suthern man, 
I can not geste, rum, rat, ruf, by letter, 
Ne, God wot, rym hold I but litel better. 

which has just been eaid to be rlpRcendinfj, was at that time in Taurus, and 
that consequently Taurus mnM n\so hav e'heen dc trending. Libra, thereiore, 
Bhould by no means be parted witJi. Bein^ in that part'of the zodiac which 
is nearly cpposito to Taunts, the place of the sun, it is very properly repre- 
eentei "as nsrpnd'mg above the hotizon toward the time of the sun's setting. 
If any altera! ion were to be admitted, I should be for reading— 

Therwith Safurnes exaltation, 

I mene Libra, alway gan ascende — 

The exaltafion of Sihtrn was in Libra. Kalendrier des Bergers, sign. K. i." 
— Tynchiti. 

17306. a townes- I'he Lansd. Ms. reads at the thrnpes ende. 

17323. tale. The Lansd. Ms. reads fable, which is the reading adopted by 
Tyrwhitt, and it seems to be aulliorized by the parson's reply. 

17337. rum, raf, ruf. This seems generally to be understood as an ironical 
allusion to the popular allireiative verse of Chaucer's age, in contradistinc- 
tion to rhyme, which is spoken of in the line following. 



TnE PERSONES TALE. 305 

And therfor, if yow lust, I wol not glose, 

I wol yow telle a niery tale in prose, 17340 

To knyt up al this fest, and make an ende ; 

And Jhesu for his grace wit me sende 

To schewe yow the way, in this viage, 

Of thilke perfyt glorious pilgrimage 

Tiiat hatte Jerusalem celestial. 

A lid if ye vouchesauf, anoon I schal 

Bygynne my tale, for which I yow pray 

Telle your avis, I can no better say. 

But natheles this meditacioun 

1 put it ay under correccioun 17350 

Of clerkes, for I am not textuel ; 

I take but the sentens, trustith wel. 

Therfor I make protestacioun, 

That I wol stande to correccioun.'* 

Upon this word we han assented soone. 
For, as it semed, it was for to done, 
To enden in som vertuous sentence. 
And for to gev him space and audience ; 
And bad oure host he schulde to him say. 
That alle we to telle his tale him pray. 17360 

Our host hadde the wordes for us alle ; 
" Sir prest," quod he, " now faire yow bifalle ; 
Say what yow lust, and we will gladly hiere.'* 
And with that word he said in this manere ; 
'* Telleth," quod he, "your meditacioun ; 
But hasteth yow, the sonne wol adoun. 
Beth fructuous, and that in litel space. 
And to do wel God sende yow his grace." 

THE PERSONES TALE. 

Jer. 6\ State super mas, et mdete et interrogate de semitis 
antiquisquw sit via bona, et ambulate in ea, et inven- 
ietis refrigerium animabus vestris, etc. 

OwRE swete Lord God of heven, that no man wil per- 
is.he. but wol that we comen alle to the knowlecheof him, 
and to the blisfnl lif that is perdurable, ammonestith us 
by the ])rophet Jeremye, that saith in this wise : Stondeth 
upon the weyes, and seeth and axeth of olde pathes, that 
is to sayn, of olde sentence, which is the good way, and 

The Persnnfn Tale. In all probability this is a free translation of some 
tif^atise on ppnitfMice. but it is bardly worth our while to look far aftor the or- 
iginal. TyrwhitL's opinion has been' givon in the note on 1. 172't9. 'I"he refer- 
ences lo S'<Mipture, and to the theologi.al writer-; of the liomish Church, are 
fiO numerous that 1 shall not attempt to venfy them. 



506 THE CAKTERBUBT TALES. 

ye schul fynde refresshyng for youre soules, etc. Many ben 
the wayes espirituels that leden folk to oure Lord Jhesu 
Christ, and to the regne of glorie ; of whiche weyes, ther is 
a ful noble way, and ful convenable, wliich may not faile 
to man ne to womman, that thorugh synne hath mysgon 
fro the right way of Jerusalem celestial ; and this wey is 
cleped penitence. Of whiche men schulden gladly herken 
and enquere with al here herte, to wyte what is penitence, 
and whens it is cleped penitence, and in what maiier, and 
in how many maneres been the acciones or workynges of 
l)enance, and how many spieces ben of penitences, and 
whiche thinges apperteynen and byhoven to penitence and 
whiche thinges destourben penitence. 

Seint Ambrose saith, that penitence is the pleynyng of 
iiian for the gult that he hath doon and no more to do ony 
thing for which him oughte to pleigne. And som doctour 
saith, penitence is the waymentynge of man that sorweth 
for his synne, and peyneth himself for he hath mysdoon. 
Penitence, with certeyn circumstaunces, is verray repent- 
aunce of man, that holt himself in sorwe and in woo for his 
giltes, and Un' he schal be verray penitent, he schal first 
by waile the synnes that he hath do, and stedfastly piir- 
posen in his hert to haven schrifte of mouth, and to doon 
satisfaccioun, and never to do thing for which him oughte 
more to by wayle or to complayne, and to continue in goode 
werkes, or elles his repentaunce may nought avayle. For, 
as saith seint Isidor, he is a japere and a gabbere, and no 
verray repentaunt, that eftsoone doth thing for which him 
oughte to repente. Wepynge, and nought for to stynte to 
doon synne, may nought avayle. But natheles, men schal 
hope tiiat at every tyme that men faUith, be it never so 
ofte, that he may arise thorugh penitence, if he have grace ; 
but certeyn it is gret doute. For as saith seint Gregory, 
unnethe arist he out of his synne that is charged w^ith the 
charge of yvel usage. And therfore repentaunt folk that 
^tinte for to synne and forlete synne er that synne forlete 
hem, holy chirche holte hem siker of her savacioun. And 
lie that synneth, and verraily repentith him in his last ende, 
iioly chirche yit hopeth his savacioun, by the grete mercy 
of oure Lord Jhesu Crist, for his repentaunce ; but take ye 
the siker way. 

And now sith that I have declared yow, what thing is 
penitence, now schul ye understondo, that there ben tlire 
acciouns of penitence, The first is, that if a man be bap- 
tized after that he hath synned. Seint Augustyn saitli, 
bat if he be penitent for his olde synful lif, he may not by- 
gynne the uewe cleue lif. For certes, if he be ba-ptiiad 



THE PFRSONES TALE. 507 

withoiite penitence of his olde gilt, he recey veth the mark 
of baptisiiie, but nought the grace, nethe reinissioun of his 
synnes, til he have repentaunce verray. Another defaute 
is this, that men doon deedly synne after that thay have 
recyved baptisme. The thridde defaute is, that men fallen 
into venial synne after here baptisme fro day to day. 
Therof saith seint Austyn, that penitence of good men, 
and of humble folk, is the penitens of every day. 

The spices of x^enitence ben thre. That oon of hem is 
solempne, another is comune, and the thridde is pryve. 
Thilko penaunce that is solempne, is in tuo maners ; as is 
to be put out of holy chirche in lente, for slaughtre of 
childre, and such maner thing. Another is, whan a man 
hath synned openly, of which synne the fame is openly 
spoken in tlie contre ; and thanne holy chirche by jugge- 
ment streyneth him to doon open penaunce. Comune 
penaunce is, that prestes enjoynen men comunly in certeyn 
caas, as for to goon perad venture naked in pilgrimage, or 
barfot. Prive penaunce is thilk that men doon alday for 
privd synnes, of whiche we schry ve us prively, and recey ven 
prive penaunce. 

Kovv schalt now understonde Avhat bihoveth and is ne- 
cessarie to verray perfyt penitence ; and this stondith in 
thre thinges, contricioun of hert, confessioun of mouth, and 
satisfaccioun. For whiche saith seint Johan Crisostom, 
penitence distrejmeth a man to accepte benignely every 
peyne that him is enjoyned with contricioun of herte, and 
sclirift of mouth with satisfaccioun, and werking of alle 
maner humblete. And this is fruytful penitence agayn tho 
thre thinges, in whiche we wraththe oure Lord Jhesu Crist ; 
this is to sayn, by delit in thinking, rechelesnes in speking, 
and ])y wicked synful werkyng. Again these thre wicked 
gultes isx^enitence, that may be likned unto a tre. 

The roote of this tre is contricioun, that hyditli him 
in the hert of him that is verray rexjentaunt, rigiit as 
the roote of a tree hideth him in the eorthe. Of the roote 
of contricioun springeth a stalk, that bereth braunches 
and leeves of confessioun and fruyt of satisfaccioun. For 
whiche Crist saith in his Gospel, doth digne fruyt of 
penitence, for by this fruyt may men knowe this 
tree, and nought by the roote that is hyd in the hert of 
a man, ne by the braunches ne the levys of confessioun. 
And therfore oure Lord Jhesu Christ saith thus, by the 
fruyt of hem schul ye knowe hem. Of this roote eek 
springeth a seed of grace, the which seed is mooder of sik- 
urnes, and this seed is egre and hoote. Tlio grace of this 
eeed springeth of God, thorugh remembraunce of the day 



50B THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



of doom, and of the peynes of helle. Of this matier saith 
Salomon, that in the drede of God man forleteth hissynne. 
The hete of this seed is the love of God, and the desiring of 
the joye perdurable. This hete draweth the hert of man 
to God, and doth him hate his S3^nne. For sothe, ther is 
nothing- that serveth so wel ^ to a child, as the milk of his 
norice, ne nothing is to him more abhominable than the 
milk whan it is melled with other mete.^ Right so the syn- 
ful man that loveth his synne, him semeth it is to him most 
swete of eny thing; but fro that tyme that he loveth sadly 
oure Lord Jhesu Crist, and desireth the lif perdurable, ther 
nys to him nothing more abhominable. For which Davyd 
saith, I have loved thy lawe, and hated wikkednesse and 
hate ; he that loveth God, keepeth his lawe and his word. 
This tree saugh the prophets Daniel in spirit, upon the 
avysioun of Nabugodonosor, whan he counselled him to do 
penaunce. Penaunce is tre of lif to hem that it recej'ven 
and he that holdeth him in verray penitence, is blessed, 
and after tlie sentence of Salomon. 

In this penitence or contricioun men schal understonde 
foure thinges, that is to sayn, what is contricioun, and 
whiche ben the eauses that moeven men to contricioun, 
and how he SQhulde be contrit, and what contricioun avail- 
eth to the soule. Thanne it is thus, that contricioun is the 
verray sorwe that a man receyveth in his herte for his 
synnes, with sad purpos to schryve him, and to doo pen- 
aunce, and never more to don synne. And this sorwe schal 
be in this maner, as saith seint Bernard ; it schal benhevy 
and grevous, and ful scharp and poynaunt in herte ; first, 
for man had agilted his Lord and his creatour ; and more 
scharp and poynaunt, for he hath agilted his fader celestial ; 
and yit more scharp and poynaunt, for he hath wratthed 
and agilt him that bought him with his precious blood, 
and hath delyvered us fro the bondes of synne, and fro the 
cruelte of the devel, and fro the peynes of helle. 

The causes that oughten to moeve a man to contricioun 
ben vj. First, a man schal remembre him of his synnes. 
But loke that thilke remembraunce be to no delyt of him 
by no way, but gret schame and sorwe for his gilt. For 
Job saith that synful men doon w^erkes worthy of confes- 
sioun. And therfor saith Ezechiel, I wol remembre alle the 
yeres of my lif, in bitternesse of myn herte. And God sailh 
in thapocalips, remembre yow from whens that ye bea 

^ servet % so ■"•£•?. Tyrwhitt adopts the reading sni^oureth so sole. 

2 melled with other mete. The words ivitli other which seem necessary for 
the sense, although omitted in the Harl. Ms., are adopted from the Lansd. 
Mb. 



TTTE PERSONES TALES. 509 



falle, for biforn that tyme that ye synned, ye were the chil- 
dren of God, and lymnie of the regne of God ; ^ but for 
youre synne ye be woxe thral, and foul, and niembres of 
tlie feend, hate of aungels, sclaunder of holy chirche, and 
foode of the fals serpent, perpetuel niatier of the fuj-r of 
helle, and yet more foule and abhoniinable, for ye tres- 
passen so ofte fyine, as doth the hound that torneth to ete 
his sj^ewyng ; and yet ye ben fouler for youre longe con- 
tinuyng in synne, and youre synful usage, for whiche ye 
ben roten in youre synne, as a beest in his donge. Suche 
maner of thoughtes make a man have scliame of his synne, 
and no delit ; and God saith, by the propliete Ezechiel, ye 
sehul remembre yow of youre weyes, and thay schal dis- 
plese yow. Sothly, svnnes ben the way that leden folk to 
helle. 

The secounde cause that oaghte make a man to have 
disdoyn of his synne is this, that, as seith seint Petre, who 
so dothe synne is thral of synne, and synne put a man in 
gret thr^lldom. And therfore saith the prophete Ezechiel, 
1 wente sorwful, in disdeyn of myself. Certes, wel oughte 
a nuin have disdeyn of myself. Certes, wel oughte a man 
have disdeyn of synne, and withdrawe him fro that thial- 
dom and vilonye. And lo what saith Seneca in tliis niatiere. 
He saith thus, though I wiste, that nere God ne man 
schuld ) never knowe it, yit would I have disdeyn for to do 
synne. And the same Seneca also saith, 1 am born to 
gretter thinges than to be thral to my body, or than for to 
make of my bodj^ a thral. Ne a fouler thral may no man, 
ne womman, make of his body, than give his body to synne. 
And were it the foulest cherl, or the foulest womman, that 
lyveth, and lest of value, yet is thanne synne* more foul, 
and more in servitude. Ever fro the heigher degre that 
man fallith, the more is his thral, and more to God and to 
the workP vile and abhoniinable. O goode God! wel 
oughte a man have gret disdayn of such a thing that 
thorugh synne, ther he was free, now is he maked bonde. 
And therfore saith seint Austyn, if thou hast disdayn of 
servaunt, if he agilte or synne, have thou than disdeigne*^ 
that thou thiself schuldist do synne. Tak reward of thy 
value, that thou be nought to foul in thiself. Alias ! wel 
oughte men have disdeyn to be servauntes and thralles to 

3 and lymme . . . God. These words, omitted in the Karl. Ms., are sup- 
plied from the Lansd. Ms. 

* thdune si/nne. Tyrvvhitt reads yet is he than viore/oufe. 

^ and to the world. These words, taken from the Lansd. IVIs., are not in 
the Harl. Ms. 

6 of thy seroaunt . . . disdeigne. These words, omitted by an evident error 
of the scribe in the Harl. Ms., are supplied from the Lansd. Ms. 



510 THE CANTEBBUHY TALES. 



synne, and sore ben aschamed of hemself , that God of his 
ondeles goodnes hath set hem in heigh estate, or geven hem 
witte, strength of body, hele, beaute, or prosperite, and 
bought hem fro the deth with his herte blood, that thay so 
unkindely ageinst his gentilesce quyten him so vileynsly, 
to slaughter of her oughne soules. O goode God ! ye wom- 
men that ben of so gret beaute, remembretli yow of the 
proverbe of Salomon, that saith he likeneth a fair wom- 
man, that is a fool of hir body, to a ryng of gold that were 
HI the groyn of a so we ; for right as a so we wroteth in 
everich ordure, so wrootith sche hir beaute in stynking 
ordure of synne. 

The thridde cause, that oughte to moeve a man to con- 
tricioun, is drede of the day of doome, and of the orrible 
peynes of helle. For as seint Jerom saith, at every tyme 
that I remembre of the day of doom, I quake ; for whan I 
ete or drinke, or what so that I doo, ever semeth me that 
the trompe sowneth in myn eere, riseth ye up that ben 
deede, and conieth to the juggement. O goode God ! 
mochil ought a man to drede such a juggement, ther as we 
schul be alle, as seith seint Poul, biforn the sete of our Lord 
Jhesu Crist ; wher as he schal make a general congre- 
gacioun, wher as no man may ben absent ; for certes ther 
avayleth non essoyne ne excusacioun ; and nought oonly, 
that oure defaute schal be juged, but eek that alle 
oure werkes schul'' be openly knowen. And, a seint 
Bernard saith, ther schal no pleynyng avayle, ne no 
sleight ; we schulngive rekenyng of every ydel word. Ther 
schulle we have a juge that may nought be disceyved ne 
corrupt ; and why ? for certes, alle oure thoughtes ben 
descovered as to him, ne for prayer ne for meede lie nyl not 
be corupt. And therfore saith Salomon, the wraththe of 
God ne wol nought spare no wight, for praier ne for gift. 
And therfore at the day of doom th^r is no hope to eschape. 
Wherfore, as seint Anselm seith, fid greet anguisch schuln 
the synf ul folk have at that tyme ; there schal be the sterne 
and the wroth juge sitte above, and under him the horrible 
put of helle open, to destroye him that wolde not byknowe 
his synnes, which synnes openly ben schewed biforn God 
and biforn every creature ; and on the lyft syde, mo divelis 
than herte may thynke, for to hary and todrawe the synful 
soules to the pyne of helle ; and witliinne the hertes of falk 
schal be the bytyng conscience, and withoute forth schal 
be the world al brennyng. Whider schal than the Avrecche 
Bynful man flee to hyden him ? Certes he may not hyde hini, 

7 bejugea.. . schul. These words have been accidentally omitted in tlio 
arl. Ms. Tliey are supplied from the Lausd. Ms. 



TJJE PERSONEs; TALES!. 511 



he moot come forth and schewo him. For cortes, as seith 
seynt Jerom, the erthe schal cast him out of him, and the 
see also, and the aer also, that schal be ful of thunder 
ciappes and lightnynges. Now sothly, who so well remem- 
briiii him of these tydynges, I gesse his synne schal not 
torne him to delit, but to gret sorw, for drede of the peyne 
of helle. And therfore saith Job to (Tod, suffre, Lord, that 
I may a while biwayle and wepe, or I go withoute re- 
tournynge to the derk lond, covered with dei-kness of deth, 
to the lonvl of mysese and of derknesse, wher as is the 
shadow of ileth, wher as is noon order ne ordinaunce, hut 
grislich drede that ever schal last. Loo, her may ye see, 
that Job prayde respit a while, to wept and biwayle his 
trespas ; for forsothe oon day of respit is bettre than al the 
tresor in this world. And for as luoehe as a man may 
aquyte himself byforn God l)y penaunce in this world, and 
not by tresor, therfore sell u Id he pray to God give him 
respit a while, to wepe and to waile his tresjias. For certes, 
al the sorwe that a man myght make fro the begynnynge 
of the** world, nys but a litel thing, at regard of the sorwe 
of helle. The cause why that Job calleth helle the lond of 
derknes, nnderstondith, that he clepith it lond or eorthe, 
for it is stable and never schal fayle, and derk, for he that 
is in helle hath defaut of light material, for certes the derko 
light that schal come out of the fuyrthat ever schal brenne, 
schal torne him to peyne that is in helle, for it schewith 
liim to thorrible develes that him tormenten. Cov^ered 
with the derknes of deth ; that is to sayn, that he that is 
in helle, schal have defaute of the sight of God ; for certes, 
the sight of God is the lif perdurable. The derknes of 
deth, ben the synnes that the wrecchid man hath doon, 
whiche that stourben him to see the face of God, right as a 
derk cloud doth bitwixe us and thesonne. Lond of myseyse ; 
bycause that there ben thre maner of defautes agains thre 
thinges that folk of this world han in this present lif, that 
is to sayn, honures, delices, and richesses. Agayns honours 
han they in helle schame and confusioun ; for Avel ye witen, 
that men clepyn honure the reverence that men doon to 
the man ; Jbut in helle is noon honour ne reverence ; for 
certes no more reverence schal ben doon ther to a kyng, 
than to a knave. For which God saith by the prophete 
Joremie, tliilke folk that me displesen, schul be despit. 
Honour is the eke cleped gret lordschipe. There schal no 
wight serven othir but of harm and torment. Honour eek 
is cleped gret dignite and heighnes ; but in helle schulle 

2 sorwe . . . the. Omitted in tke Harl. Ms. They are supplied from the 
Lausd. Mtt. 



512 TnE CANTERBUnr TALES. 



thay be al for-trode of develes. And God saith. tliorrlMe 
develes sciiu ii good and comen upon the heedes of dampned 
folk ; and this is, for als moche as the heyher that tliay 
were in this present hf, the more schuln thay ben abatid 
and defouled in helle. Agayns riches of this world schuln 
thay han niysese of povert, and this povert schal be in iiij. 
thinges : in defaut of tresor ; of which, as David saith, the 
riche folk that enibraseden and onedin in al here herte the 
tresor of this world, schuln slepen in the slepyng of deth, 
and nothing schuln thay fynde in her liondes of al her 
tresor. And moreover, the mysease of helle schal be in the 
defaut of mete and drink. For God saith thus by Moyses, 
thay schul be wasted by hunger, and the briddes of helle 
schuln devoure hem with bittir teeth, and the galle of the 
dragoun schal be her drink, and the venym of the dragoun 
here morsels. And forther-moreover her misease schal be 
in defaut of clothing, for thay schul be naked in body, as 
of clothing, save of fuyr in which thay brenne, and other 
filthis ; and naked schuln thay be of soule, of alle maner 
vertues, which that is the clothing of the soule. Wher ben 
thanne the gaye robes, and the softescheetis, and the smale 
scbirtes ? Lo, what saith of hem the prophete Isaye, under 
hem schuln be strawed motthis, and here covertours schuln 
ben or wormes of helle. And forther-morover here disease 
schal be in defaute of frendes,for he is not povere that hath 
goode frendes ; but here is no frend, for neither G-od ne no 
creature schal be frend unto hem, and everich of hem schal 
hate other with dedly hate. The sones and the doughtres 
schuln rebellen agains the fader and the mooder, and 
kynrede agayns kynrede, and chiden and despisen everich 
of hem other, bothe day and night, as God saith by the 
prophete Michias, and the lovyng children that whilom 
loveden so fleisschlich everych other wolden everych of 
hem eten other if thay mighten. For how schulden thay 
loven hem togider in the peyne of helle, whan thay hated 
everich of hem other in the prosperite of this lif ? For 
trustith wel, her fleisshly love was dedly hate ; as saith the 
prophete David, who so that lovetli wickidnes, he hated 
his soule, and who so hatith his oughne soule, certis he may 
love noon other wight in no manere. And therfore in helle 
is no solace ne frendschipe, but ever the more flesshly 
kynredes that ben in helle, the more cursynge, the more 
chydynges, and the more deedly hate ther is among hem. 
And fortherover thay schul liave defaute of alle manere 
delices, for certis delices ben the appetites of tliy fyve 
wittes ; as sight, hieryng, smellyng, savoryng, and touching. 
But in helle here sight schal be ful of derknes and of smoke, 



THE PERSONES TALE, 513 

ami lier eyen ^ ful of teeris ; and her liieryn^ ful of way- 
men lyiige, and of gruntynge of teeth, as saith Jhesu Crist, 
her nosethurles schuhi ben ful of stynkyng stynk ; and, as 
saith Ysaye the prophete, here savoringe schal be ful of 
bitter galle ; and touchyng of al here body sclial be 
y-covered with fuyr that never sciial quenche, and with 
wornies tiiat never schuln deyen, as (iod saith by the mouth 
of i'saie. And for al so moche as thay schuln nought wene 
tliat thay may deyen for peyne, and by here deth fie fro 
peyne, that may thay understonde in the word of Job, that 
saith, ther as is the schadow of deth. Certes a schadow hath 
tiie likenesse of the thing of which it is a schadow, but the 
scliaduwe is nought the same thing of whiche it is schad- 
ovve ; ^'^ right so fareth the peyne of helle ; it is lik deth, for 
the lioriible anguisshe ; and why ? for it peyneth hem ever 
as though men scholden deye anon ; but certes thay schul 
not deye. For as saith seint Gregory, to wreccliid caytifs 
sciial be give deth withoute deth, and ende withouten ende, 
and defaute withouten faylinge ; for here deth schal alway 
lyven, and here ende schal evermore bygynne, and here 
ciefaute schal not fayle. And therfor saith seint Johan the 
Evaungelist, thay schul folwe deth, and thay schuln nought 
fynde him, and thay schul desire to deyen, and deth schal 
flee fro ))em. And eek Job saith, that in helle is noon ordre 
of rule. And al be it that God hath creat al thing in right 
ordre, and no thing withoute ordre, but alle thinges ben 
ordeyned and noumbred, yitnatheies thay that l)en dampned 
been nought in ordre, ne holden non ordre. For the eorthe 
schal bear hem no fruyt (for, as the prophete David saith, 
God schal destroye the fruyt of the eorthe, as for hem) ; ne 
wa.tir schal give hem no moysture, ne the aier non re- 
fivisching, ne fuyr no light. For as seith seint Basile, The 
brennyng of the fuyr of this world schal God give in helle 
to hem that ben dampnyd, but the light an(] the clernesse 
schal be geve in hevene to his children ; right as the goode 
man geve flesch to his children, and bones to his houndes. 
And for thay schul have noon hope to eschape, saith seint 
Job atte laste, that ther schal horrour and grisly drede 
duelle withouten ende. Horrour is alway drede of harm 
that is to come, and this drede schal ever duelle in the 
liert.es of hem that ben dampnyd. And therfore lian thay 
lorn al here hope for vij. causes. First for God that is 
here jugge schal be withoute mercy to hem, ne thay may 

9 her eyon. These words, whicli seem to f^ive better sense, are adopted 
from Tyr'whitt ; the Harl. Ms. reads ami fh erf ore ful of feeris. 

' /■■/ ' sfhddoive - . . sc/iaUowe. Omiited in "tlie Harl. Ms., aud restored from 
UXG liiiLiSd. Ms. 

'63 



514 THE CANTER nun Y TALES. 



not i)leasn hiin, lie noon of liishalwes; ne they may give 
no thint;" for here raunsoun ; ne thay have no voice to 
ypeive to him ; ne thay may not lit fro poyne ; ne thay 
iuive no goodnes in liem that thay may schewe to deHvere 
hem fro i>eyiie. And therfore saith iSaiomon, the wikked 
man deyeth,and wlian he it' deed, he schal have noon hope 
to eschape fro peyne. VViio so Avolde thaniie wel under- 
stonde these peynes, bythyidce him wel that lie h.-ith 
tleserved thilkii peynes for his synnes, certes he schulde 
liave more talent to sikyn and to wepe, than for to synge 
or pleye. For as that ISaiomon saith, Who so that had 
the science to knovve the peynes that hen establid and 
ordeynt for synne he wolde I'liake sorwe. Thilke science, 
as saith seiiit Austyii, maketh a man to wayment in his 
herte. 

Tli<i fourthe pojnit, that onghte make a man have con- 
tricioun, is tlu^ sorwful rememhraunce of the good that he 
liatli left to dooii hoer hi eorthe, and eek the good that he 
liatli lorn. iSothly the goode werkes that he hath left 
eytlier thay been the goode werkes that ho wrought er he 
fel into d{HHlly synne, or elles thai ben the goode werkes 
that lie wroughte whil he lay in synne. ISothly the goode 
werk<'s that he dede er he fel into synne ben amortised, and 
ustoneyed, and dullid by ofte synnynge ; that othere goode 
werkes that he wrought whil he lay in dedly synne, been 
outrely deede, as to the lif perdurable in heven. 

Tiiiinne thilke goode werkes that ben mortified by ofte 
synnyng, whiche good werkes he dede whiles he was in 
charite, ne mow never quyken atrayn withouten vcrray 
penitence. And thereof saith God by the mouth of Ezechiel 
that if the rightful man retourne agayn fro his rightwisnesse 
ami werk«^ wikkediiesse, schal he live? nay ; for alle the 
goode werkes that he harli wrought, ne schuli' never be in 
reiii.Mubraunce, for he schal dye in his synne. And upon 
thilke chapitre saith seiiit Gregory thus, that we schuln 
undeistond',' this principally, that whan we doon dedly 
svinu\ it is for nought thanne to reherse or to drawe into 
n"ieMU)rie the goode werkes that we lian wrought biforn ; 
for certis in the werkyng of the dedly synne, ther is no trust 
to no good werkes that we han don biforne this tyme ; that 
is to say, as for to have tlierby the lif perdurable in heven. 
But natheles, the goode werkes quiken agayn and comen 
again, and lielpen and availen to have the lif perdurable 
in ho'Cen whan we han contricioun ; but sotlily the goode 
werkes that men doon whil that thai ben in deedly synne, 
for as moche as thay were doon in dedly synne, thay nwi/ 
never quyken. For certes, tiling that never hadde lif, may 



THE PERSONES TALE. S15 



never quykon ; " and al be it so that thay availeii not to 
have the lit" perdurable, yit avaylen thay to abrij^'^in^ of 
tlie peyne of hollo, or elles to ^ete temporal riches, or ellos 
that (t(>(1 wol the rather eiiluniyiie and lij^litene the hert of 
the synful man to haver(;i)entaunce ; andeek thay availcn 
for to usen a man to do goode werkes, tliat the feend have 
the las8e power of his soule. And thus the curteys Lord 
Jliesu Crist ne wolde nought no good werk be lost, for in 
fiomwhat it schal availe. But for als moche as the goodci 
werkes that men don whil thay ben in good lif l)en amor- 
tised by synne folwyng, and eek sitli that alle the goode 
werkes that men doon whil thay ben in dedly synne, been 
outrely deede as for to have the lif perdurable, wcl may 
that man, that no goode werl^es werkith, syngcthilke nevve 
freisc.h song, Tay tout perdu moun temps et moan labour. 
For certis synne byreveth a man bothe goodnes of nature, 
and eek the goodnes of grace. For sothly the graee of the 
holy gost fareth lik fyre that may not ben ydel ; for fuyr 
as it forletith his werkyng, and failetli anoon, and right so 
when tho grace failetli anoon as it forleteth his werkyng, 
than les th the synful man the goodnes of glorie, thatoonly 
is byhight to goode men that labouren and werken. Wei 
may he be sory thanne, that oweth al his lif to God, as 
longe as he hath lyved, and eek as longe as he schal ly ve, 
that no goodnes ne hath to paye with his dette to God, to 
whom he oweth al his lyf ; for trusteth wel he schal give 
accompt, as saitli soint Bernard, of alle thegoodestiiathan 
be geven him in his present lif, and how he hath liem dis- 
pendid, nat so moche that ther schal not perische an hcer 
of his heed, ne a moment of an hour ne schal not perische 
of his tyme, that he ne schal give of it a rekenyng. 

-The lifte maner of contricioun, that moeveth a man 
tlierto, is the remembraunce of the i)assioun that oure Lord 
Jhesu Crist sulTred for us and for oure synnes. For as seith 
seint Bernard, wdiil that I lyve, 1 schal have remembraunce 
of the i)assioun that oure Lord Jhesu Crist sulTred for us in 
preching, his werynesse in travayling, his temptacioun 
whan h^ fastid, his longe wakinges whan he jjrayde, his 
teeres whan he wepte for pito of good peple ; the wo and 
the sell am and the filthe that men saide to him ; of the 
foul si)iityng that men spitten on his face; of the bullettis 
that men'gaf liim ; of the foule mowes and of the reproves 
that men to him saiden ; of the nayleswith whiche he was 

" Far ccrles .. .quykcn. I'lu'.so words, not in Uio Ilarl. Ms., are added 
from the Laiisd. Ms. Theses oiiusKions ar.; so frciuciit 111 it, I sliall not a^aui 
luvint thoiii ouL. Kiiglisli prosi; iiiainis'ripis are always iiiiich iiwnt! incorroct 
ibau LLo vurso. from causes wbicU iL v/uuld not bo dillicult to oxidain. 



516 THE CANTEBBUBT TALES. 



nayled to the cros ; and of al the remenaunt of his pas- 
sioun, that he suffred for my synnes and no thing for liia 
jj;ilt. And ye schal understonde that in mannes synne is 
every nianer ordre of ordinaunce turned up-so-doun. For 
it is soth, that God, and resoun, and sensuahte and the 
body of man, be so ordeyned, that everich of thise foure 
schnlde have lordschipe over that other, as thus : God 
schulde have lordschipe over resoun, and resoun over sen- 
suaht*', and sensuahte over the body of man. But sotiily 
whan man synneth, al this ordre, or ordinaunce, is torned 
up-so-doun ; and thanne, for as moche as the resuun of a 
man ne wol not be subject ne obeissant to God, that is his 
lord by right, therfore lesith it the lordschipe thatitschulde 
have over sensuahte, and eek over the body of man ; and 
why ? for sensuahte rebelhth thans agayns resoun , and 
by that way lesith resoun the lordschipe over senj^ualile, 
and over the body. For right as resoun is rebel to God, 
right so is bothe sensuahte rebel to resoun and the body 
also. And certis this disordynaunce, and this rebellioun, 
cure Lord Jhesu Crist bought upon his precious body ful 
deere ; and herkeneth in which wise. For as moche as 
resoun is rebel to God, therfore is man worthy to have 
sorwe, and to be deed. This suffred oure Lord Jhesu Crist 
for man, after that he was bytraysed of his disciple, and 
distreyned and bounde, so that the blood brastout at ev«ry 
nayl of his hondes, as saith seint Austyn. And forther- 
over, for as mochil as resoun of man wol nought daunte 
sensuahte when it may, therfore is man worthy to have 
schame ^ and this suffered oure Lord Jhesu Crist for man, 
whan tliay spitten in his face. And fortherover thanne, 
for as moche as the caytif body of man is rebelle bothe to 
resoun and to sensualite, therfore it is worthy the deth ; 
and this suffred oure Lord Jhesu Crist for us upon the 
croys, wher as ther was no part of his body fre, withoute 
gret peyne and bitter passioun. And al this suffred oure 
Lord Jhesu Crist that never forfeted ; and thus sayd he, to 
mochil am I streyned, for the things that I never deservyd ; 
and to moche defouled for schendschip that man is wortljy 
to have. And therfore may the synful man wel seye, as 
saith seint Bernard, accursed be the bitternesse of my 
synne, f.^r which ther moste be suffered so moche bitter- 
nesse. For certis, after the dyvers discordaunces of oure 
wickednes was the passioun of oure Lord Jhesu Crist 
ordeyned in divers thinges ; as thus. Certis sinful 
mannes soule is bytraysid of the devel, by coveltise of 
temporal prosperite ; and scorned by disceyt, whan he 
cheseth fleischly delytes ; and yit is it tormentid by iiu- 



THE PERS0NE3 TALE. 517 

pacience of adversitt', and byspit by servag^e and snb- 
jeccioun of synne, and atte last it is slayn finally. For this 
discordaunceof synful man, was Jhesu Crist first bytraised ; 
and after was he bounde, that com for to unbj-nden us fro 
synne and of peyne. Than was he scorned, that oonly 
schulde be honoured in aUe thing of alle thinges. Than 
was his visage, that oughte be desired to be say of al man- 
kynde (in which visage aungels desii-en to k)ke) vileynusly 
b} spit. Thaiine was he scorned ^^ that nothing iiad agilt ; 
and fynally, thanne was he crucified and shiyn. Thanne was 
accomphsed tlie word of Ysaye, H'e was woundid for oure 
mysdede, and defouled by oure felonyes. Now sitli Jhesu 
Crist tok upon him thilke peyne of alle oure wikkednes 
mochil oughte synful men wepe and by wayle, that for his 
synnes schulde Goddes sone of hevene al this endure. 

The sixte thing that oughte to moeve a man to eon- 
tricioun, is the hope of thre thinges, that is to sayn, for- 
gevenes of synne, and the gifte of grace wel for to do, and 
the glorie of heven, with wdiich God schal guerdoun man 
for his goode deedis. And for als moche as Jhesu Oist 
geveth us these giftes of his largesse and of his soverayn 
bountc, therfore is he clei)ed, Jhesus Nazarenus rex Judct- 
orum. Jhesus is for to say, saveour of savacioun, of whom 
me schal hope to have forgevenes of synnes, which that \% 
proprely savacioun of synnes. And therfore seyde the 
aungel to Joseph, thow schalt clepe his name Jhesus, that 
schal save his poeple of here synnes. And herof sailh seint 
Petir, ther is noon other name under heven, that is geve to 
any man, by which a man may be savyd, but oonly Jhesus. 
Nazarenus is as moche to say as florisching, in which a man 
schal hope, that he that geveth him reuiissioun of synnes, 
schal give liim grace wel to doo. For in the flour is hope 
of fruyt in tyme comynge, and in forgivenes hope of grace 
wel to do. I was at the dore of thin herte, saitli Jhesus, 
and cleped for to entre ; he that openith to me, schal have 
forgevenes of synne ; I wol entre into him by my grace, 
and soupe with him by the goode workes that he schal 
doon, whiche werkes ben the foode of God, and he schal 
soupe with me by the grete joye that I schal give him. 
Thus schal man hope, that for his werkis of penaunceGod 
schal give him his regne, as he bihetith him in the (Tospei. 

Now schal man understonde, in what maner schal be his 
contricioun. I say, it schal be universal and total, that is to 
say. a man schal be verray repentaunt for alle his synnes that 
he hath doonindelyt of his thought, fordelit isful perilous. 
For ther ben tuo maners of consentyng, thatoon of hem is 
" scorned. Tyrwliitt reads scourged with the Laued. Mo. 



618 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

cleped consentyng of affeccioun, whan a man is moeved to 
syniie, and delitith him longe for to thinkeon that synne, 
and his resoun aparcey veth wel that it is synne agayns the 
la we of God, and yit his resoun refreyneth not his fouie 
deUt or talent, though he seth wel apertly, t-hat it is agenst 
the reverence of God ; although his resoun conseute not to 
do the synne in dede, yit sayn some doctours, delyt that 
duellith longe it is ful perilous, al be it never so lite. And 
also a man schulde sorwe, namely for al that he hath de- 
sired agayn the la we of God, with parfyt consentynge of 
his hert and of his resoun, for therof is no doute, that it is 
dedly synne in consentyng ; for certis ther is no dedly 
synne, but that it nas first in mannes thought, and after 
tiiat in his delit, and so forth into consentyng, and into 
dede. Wherfore say I, that many men repente hem never 
of suche thoughtes and delites, ne never schrive hem of it, 
but oonly of the dede of grete synnes outward. Wherfore 
i say, that suche wickid delitis and wickid thoughtes ben 
Jubtile bigilours of hem that schuln be dampned. More- 
over man oughte to sorwe for his wicked wordes, as wel as 
his wikked dedes ; for certis the repentaunce of a singuler 
synne, and nought repente of alle his other synnes, or elles 
repente him of alle his othere synnes, and not of a singuler 
synne, may nought availe. For certis God Almighty is 
al good, and thorfore he forgeveth al, or elles right nought. 
And hereof saith seint Augustin, I wot certeynly, that God 
is enemy to every synnere ; and how thanne he that ob- 
servith oon synne, schalhehave remissiounof the remenant 
of his other synnes ? Nay. And fortherover, contricioun 
schulde be wounder sorwful and anguisschous, and ther- 
fore givith him God pleinly his mercy. And therf ore whan 
my soule was anguissheous withinne me, I hadde remem- 
braunce of God, that my prayer mighte come to him. And 
fortherover, contricioun moste be continuelly, and that a 
man have stedefast purpos to schryve him, and for to 
amende him of his lyf. For sothly, whil contricioun lastith, 
man may ever hope of forgevenes. And of this cometh 
hate of synne, that destroyeth synne bothc in himself, and 
eek in other folk at his power. And therfore saith David, 
ye that loven God, hatith wikkidnesse ; for trustith wel for 
to love God, is for to love that he loveth, and hate that he 
hateth. 

The laste thing that a man schuld undersronde in con- 
tricioun is this, wherof availith contricioun ? I say, that 
som tyme contricioun delivereth man fro synne ; of which 
that David saith, I say, quod David, I purposid fermely to 
schryve me, and thou, Lord, relesedist myeynne. And 



THE PEESONES TALE. 519 



right so as contricioun availith nat withoute sad purpos 
of schrift if man have oportunite, right so Htil wortii is 
schrifte or !^atis?faccioiin withoute contricioun. And, more- 
over, contricioun destruyeth the prisoun of helle, and 
makith wayk and feble the strengthes of tho develes, and 
restorith the gift of tho holy gost, and of alle vertues, and 
it clensith the soule of synnes, and deUvereth the soule fro 
the peynes of helle, and fro thecompanye of the devel, and 
fro the servage of synne, and restorith it to alle goodes 
e.spiritueles, into tho companye and communion n of holy 
clnrche. And fortherover, it makith him that somtyme was 
soue of ire, to be the sone of grace ; and alle these thinges 
he provith by holy writte. And therfore he that wil sette 
his herte to these thinges, he were ful wys. For sothly he 
scholde not thanne in al his lyf have corrage to synne, but 
^iveu his body and al his herte to the service of Jhesu 
Crist. and therof do him homage. For certis oure swete 
Lord Jhesu Crist hath sparid us so debonerly in oure iolyes, 
that if he ne hadde pite of mannes soule, sory songemighte 
we alle synge. 

ExvWnt jyrima pars penitejitice ; et incipit secunda pars 
ejusdem. 

The secounde partye of penitence is confessioun, that 
is, tigne of contricioun. Now schul ye understonde what 
is •-'onfessioun ; and whethir it oughte needes be doon or 
noon ; and whiche thinges ben convenable to verray con- 
fessioun. First schalt thou understonde, that confessioun 
is verrey schewyng of synnes to the prest ; this is to sayn 
verray, for he moot schewe him of alle the condiciouns that 
ben longynge to his synne, as ferforth as he can ; al mot 
be sayd, and nought excused, ne hyd, ne forwrappid ; and 
nought avaunte him of his goode werkis. 

And forthermore it is necessary to understonde whens 
that synnes springe, and how thay encresen, and whiche 
they ben. 

Of the springing of synnes as seint Poul saith, in this 
wise, that right as by a man synne entred first into this 
world, and thorugh that synne deth, right so thilke detli 
entered into alle men that synneden ; and this n)an was 
Adam, by whom that synne entred into this world, when 
he brak the comaundement of God. And therfor*^ he 
that first was so mighty, that he schuld not have deyed, 
bicam siththe suche on that he moste needis deye, whethir 
he wolde or noon, and al his progenie that is in this world, 
that in thilkj manner synneden. 



P20 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Loke that in the estate of innocence, whan Adam and 
Eve nakid were in paradys, and no thing schanie "ne had- 
den of her nakidnesse, how that the serpent, that was most 
wily of alle other bestis that God hadde makid, sayde to 
the womman, why comaundid God to yow ye schulde 
nought ete of eyery tree in Paradys ? 

The womman answerde, of the fruyt, quod she, of the 
trees in Paradys we feede us, but sothly of the fruyt of the 
tre that is in the myddil of Paradis God forbad us for to 
eten, ne not touche it, lest peraventure we schulde deye. 

Tae serpent sayde to the womman, nay, nay, ye schal 
not drede of deth, for sothe God. wot, that what day ye ete 
tlierof youre eyen schal open and ye schul ben as goddis, 
knowing good and harm. 

The womman saugh the tree was good to feedyng, and 
fair to the eyen, and delitable to sight ; she |ok of the 
fruyt of the tree and eet it, find gaf to hir housbond, and 
he eet it ; and anoon the eyen of hem bothe openeden ; 
and whan that they knowe that thay were naked, thay 
sowde of lige leves in maner of breches, to hiden hero 
membirs. 

Here may ye see, that dedly synne hath first suggestion n 
of the feend, as scheweth here by the neddir ; and aftir- 
ward the delit of the fleische, as scheweth here by Eva ; 
j.nd after that the consentyng of resoun, as scheweth by 
Adam. For trustith wel, though so were that the feende 
temptid oon, Eve, that is to sayn the fleissch, and the 
fleissch hadde delit in the beaute of the fruyt defendid, 
yit certes til that resoun, that is to say, Adam, consentid 
to the etyng of the fruyt, yit stood he in thastaat of inno- 
cence. Of thilk Adam took we thilke synne original ; for 
of him flesschly descen^it be we alle and engendrit of vile 
and corrupt matiere ; and whan the soule is put in oure 
body, right anoon is contract original synne ; and that, 
that was erst but oonly peyne of concupiscence, is after- 
ward bothe peyne and synne ; and therfore be we alle 
isborn sones of wraththe, and of dampnacioun perdurable, 
if it nere baptisme that we receyven, which bynymeth us 
the culpe. 

But forsothe the peyne duellith with us as to tempta- 
cioun, which peyne highte concupiscence. And this con- 
cupiscence, whan it is wrongfully disposed or ordeyntd in 
man, it makith him to coveyte, by covetise of fleissch, 
fleisschly synne, by sight of his eyghen, as to erthely 
thinges, and eek coveityse of heighnesse, as by pride of 
herte. 

^ovv as to speke of the firste coveitise, that is concupis- 



THE PERSONES TALE. 521 

cence after the lawe of oure rnembris, that weren lawfully 
riiaked, and by ri*rhtful ju^geiiient of Grod, 1 say, for as 
moclie as a man is nought obeissant to God, tliat is his 
Lord, therfore is fleissche to him disobeisant thurgh con- 
cupiscence, which that yit is cleped norisshing of synne, 
and occasion of synne. Therefore, al the while that a 
man hath in him the peyne of concupiscence, it is impos- 
sible but he be tempted somtyme and moeved in his fleisch 
to synne. And this may not faile, as longe as he liveth. 
It may wel wexe feble and faille by vertu of baptisme, and 
by the grace of God thorugh penitence ; but fully schal it 
never quenche, that he schal somtyme be moeved in him- 
self, but if he were al refreydit by siknes, or by malefice of 
sorserye, or colde drinkes. 

For what saith seint Poul ? the fleissh coveitith agayn 
the spirit, and the spirit agayn the fleisch ; thay ben so 
contrarie and so stryven, that a man may nought alwey 
do as he wolde. The same seint Poul, after his penaunce, 
in watir and in lond ; in watir by night and by day, in 
gret peril, and in gret peyne ; in lond and in famyne and 
in tlmrst, and colde and clothles, oones almost stoned al 
to the deth; yit saide he, alias! I caytif man, who schal 
dely vere me fro the prisoun of my caytif body ? 

And seint Jerom, whan he long tyme had woned i i 
desert, here wher as he hadde no compaignye but of wild -' 
bestes ; wher as he hadde no mete but herbs, and water t^ 
his drink, ne non bed but the nakid erthe, for which his 
fleisch was as blak as an Ethiopen for liete, and neigh d*^- 
stroyed for cold ; yit sayde he, that the brennyng of lec- 
chery boylid in al his body. 

Wherfore I Avot wel sicurly that thay be desceyved that 
say, thay ben not temptid in here body. Witnesse on seint 
Jame the thapostil, that saith, that every wight is tempted 
in his oughne concupiscence ; that is to sayn, that everych 
of us hath matere and occasioun to be tempted of the nor- 
ischyng of synne that is in his body. And therfore seint 
Johan the Evaungelist saith, if that we sayn we be with- 
oute synne, we deceyve ouresilf, and trouthe is nought 
in us. 

Now schal ye understonde in what maner that synne 
waxith and encresceth in a man. The first thing is thilke 
norisching of synne, of which I spak biforn, thilke con- 
cupiscence ; and after that cometh the suggestioun ^^ of 
the devel, that is to sayn, the develes bely, with which lie 
bloweth in man the fuyr of fleisschly concupiscence ; and 
after that a man bythink him whethir he wol don it or 
1' suggestioun. The Harls, Ms. read subjeccioun. 



non, thilke thing to which he is tempted. And thanne if 
that a man withstonde and wayve the firste enticyngos of 
his fleisshe, and of the feend, it is no synne, and if so be he 
do not so, thanne feeleth lie anoon a flame of deht, and 
thanne it is good to be war and kepe him wel, or elHs iie 
wil falle anoon into consentyng of synne, and thanne wol 
he do it, if he may have tyme, and space, and place. And 
of this matere saith Moyses by the devel, in this maner ; 
the feend saith, I wol chace and pursewe the man by 
wickid suggestiouns, and I wil hent him by moevyng and 
steryng of synne, and 1 wil i:)arte my prise, or my pray, by 
deliberacioun, and my lust sclial be accomplisit in delit ; I 
wil drawe my sword in consentvnge (for certes, right as a 
swerd departith a thing in tuo parties, right so consent- 
vnge departith God fro man) ; and thanne wol I sle him 
with my liond in dede of synne. Thus saith the feend ; 
for certis, thanne is a man al deed in soule ; and thus is 
synne accomplisid, by temptacioun, by delit, and by con- 
sentyng ; and thanne is the synne cleped actuel. 

For sothe synne is in two maneres, outlier it is venial, 
or dedly synne. Sothly, whan man lovith any creature 
more than Jhesu Crist oure creatour, thanne it is dedly 
synne ; and venial synne is, if a man love Jhesu Crist lesse 
than him oughte. For sothe the dede of this venial synne 
is ful perilous, for it amenisith the love that men schulde 
have to God, more and more. And therfore if a man 
charge more himself with many suche venial synnes, 
certes, but if so be that he som tyme discharge him of hem 
by schrifte, thay may ful lightly amenise in liim al the 
love that he hath to Jhesu Crist ; and in this Avise skip- 
pith venial into dedly synne. For certes, the more that a 
man chargith his sould with veniel synnes, the more is he 
enclyned to falle in deedly synne. And therfore let us 
nought be negligent t( descharge us of venial synnes. For 
the proverbe saith, tli. t many smale makith a gi*et. And 
herken this ensample ; a greet wawe of the see cometh 
som tyme with so gret a violence, that it drenchith the 
schip ; and the same harm doon som tyme smale droppis 
of watir, that entrith thurgh a litil creves into the thur- 
rok, and into the bothum of a schip, if men be so neg- 
ligent, that thay descharge hit nought by tyme. And 
therfore, although ther be difference betueen these tuo 
causes of drenching, algates the schip is dreynt. Right so 
farith it som tyme of deedly synne, and of anoyous venial 
synnes, whan thay multiplien in a man so gretly, that 
thilke worldly thynges that he loveth, thurgh which he 
siunetli veniaily, is as gret iu his herte as the love of God, 



THE PER SON E8 TALE. ^^^ 



or more. And therfore the love of every thini? that is not 
l)yset in God, ne doon principally for Goddes sake, al- 
tliough a man love it lasse than God, yit is it venial 
synne ; and deedly synne, whan the love of eny thin^j: 
w«yeth in the hert of a man, as moclie as the love of God, 
or more. Dedly synne is, as saith saint Austyn, whan 
man torneth his hert from God, which that is verray sove- 
rayn bonnte, that may not chaunge and flitte, and j^ive 
liis herte to a thing; that may chaun^e and flitte ; and 
certes, that is every tiling save God of heven. For S( ;hp, 
if that a man gieve his love, the which that he owith to 
God with al his herte, nnto a creature, certes, as moche of 
love af he giveth to thilke creature, so moche he revi'th 
fro God, and therfore doth he synne, for be that is dettour 
to God, ne yeldeth not to God al his dette, that is to sayn, 
al the love of his hert. 

Now sithtlie man understondith generally which is 
venial synne, thanne is it covenable to telle specially of 
Wynnes, whiche that many a man peraventura ne demith 
hem no synnes. and schryvethhim not of the some thinges, 
and yet natbeles thay ben synnes; and, sothly, as clerkes 
writen ; this is to say, at every tyme that man etith or 
drinkith more than sufflseth to the sustienannre of his 
body, in certeyn he doth synne ; and eek whan he spekith 
more than it needith, he doth synne; and eek whan he 
herkeneth nought benignely the pleynt of the pore ; eek 
whan he is in hele of bod}^ and wil not faste whan other 
folk fasten, withouten cause resonable ; eek whan he 
slepith more tlian needith, or whan he cometh by thilk 
enchesoun to late to holy chirche, or to other werkes of 
charite ; eke whan he useth his Avyf withoute soverayn 
dcwsir of engendrure, to thonour of God, and for thentent 
to yelde his wyf the dette of his body ; eek whan he wi) 
not visite the sike, and the prisoner, if he may ; eek if he 
love wyf, or child, or other worldly thing, more than 
resoun requireth ; eek if he flatere or blaundisshe more 
than him oughte for eny necessite ; eek if a man menuse 
or withdrawe the almesse of the povere ; eek if he appa- 
raylith his mete more deliciously than it nedith or ete it to 
hastily by licouresnes ; eek if he talke of vanitees at 
chirche, or at Goddis service, or that he be a talkere of 
ydil wordes of vanite or of vilonye, for he schal yelde of 
hem acount at the day of doome ; eek whan he heetith or 
assureth to do thinges that he may nought performe ; eek 
whan that by lightnes or foly he myssaith or scorneth his 
neighebor ; eek whan he hath eny Avicked suspeccioun of 
thing, that he wot of it no sothfastnesse : these thinges and 



524 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



mo withoute nombre ben synnes, as saith seint Au>ryn. 
Now schal men understonde, that al be it so that noon 
erthelj^ man maj^ eschiewe alle venial synnes, yit niay he 
refreyne hem by the brennyng love that he hath to oure 
Lord Jhesu Crist, and by prayeies, and by confessioun, 
and other goode werkes, so that it schal but litel greve. 
For, as saith seint Austyn, gif a man love God in such a 
maner, that al that ever he doth is in the love of God, or 
for the love of God varraily, for he brenneth in the love of 
God, loke how moche that a drope of watir, that fallith in 
a furneys ful of fuyr, annoyeth or greveth the brenning of 
the tire, so moche in like maner annoyeth or greveth a 
venial synne unto a man that is perfyt in the love of Jhesu 
Crist. Men may also refreyne venial synne, by receyvyng 
of the precious body of Jhesu Crist ; by receyvyng eek of 
holy water ; by almes dede ; by general confessioun of 
Confltenr at masse, and at prime, and at complyn ; and 
by blessing of bisschops and of prestes, and by other goode 
werkis. 

Now it is bihovely thing to telle whiche ben dedly 
synnes, thot is to sayn, chiveteyns of synnes ; for as moche 
as alle thay renne in oon loos, but in divers maners. Now 
ben thay cleped chiveteyns, for als moche as thay ben chief 
and springers of all other synnes. The roote of these seven 
synnes thanne is pride, the general synne and roote of alle 
harmes. For of this root springen general braunches ; as 
ire, envye, accidie or sleuthe, avarice or coveitise (to com- 
mune understondynge), glotonye, and leccherie : and 
everich of these synnes hath his braunches and his tw'gges, 
as schal be declarid in here chapitres folwinge. 



De Superbia. 

And though so be, that no man can telle utterly the nom- 
bre of the twigges, and of the harm that cometli of pride, 
yit wol I schewe a party of hem, as yeschul understonde 
Ther is inobedience, avauntyng, ypocrisye, despit, arra- 
gaunce, impudence, swellyng of hert, insolence, elaciouus 
impacience, strif, contumacie, presumpcion, irreverence, 
pertinacie, veinglorie, and many another twigge that I can 
not telle ne declare. Inobedient is he that disobeieth for des- 
pyt to the comaundementz of God, and to his sovereigns, and 
to his gostly fader. Avauntour, is he that bosteth of the 
harm or of the bounte that he hath don. Ypocrisy, is 
that hydeth to schewe him such as he is, and scheweth him 
such as ho not is. Despitous, is he that hath desdayn of 



THE PEHSONES tale. 525 

his neighebour, that is to say, of his even Cristen, or hath 
des])it to doon that him ought to doon. Arragaunt, is lie 
that thinketh that he hath thilke bountees in liini, that he 
hath not; or weneth that he schulde liave hem by desert, 
or elles he demeth that lie is that he is not. Impudent, is 
he that for his pride hath no scliame of his synne. Swell- 
yng of hert, is whan a man rejoysith him of harm that he 
hath don. Insolent, is he that dispisith in his juggement 
alle other folk, as to regard of his valieu, and of liis cor- 
ny ng, and of his spekj^ng, and of his beryng. Elacioun, is 
whan he may never sulfre to have maister iie felawe. Iiii- 
pacient, is he that wil not ben i-taught ne undernome of 
his vices, and by stryf werreth trouthe witynge, and de- 
fendeth his folie. Contimax, is he that thorugh his indig- 
nacioun is agains everych auctorite or power of hem that 
been his soverayns. Presumpcioun, is whan a man under- 
takith and emprisith that him oughte not to do, or elles 
tliat lie may not doo, and that is cleped surquidrye. Ir- 
reverence, is whan men doon not lionour ther as hem 
ought to doon, and wayteth to be reverenced. Pertinacie, 
is whan man defendith his folye, and trusteth to moche to 
his owne witte. Vainglorie, is for to have pomj), and delit 
in temporal heighnes, and glorilie him in worldly estaat. 
Jangelyng, is whan a man spekith to moche biforn folk, 
and clappith as a mille, and taketh no keep what he saith. 

And yit is ther a prive spice of pride, that wayteth ilrst 
to be saluet er he saliewe, al be he lasse worth than that 
other is, paradventure ; and eek wayteth or desireth to 
sitte above him, or to go above him in the way, or kisse 
the pax, or ben encensed, or gon to the oftriuge biforn his 
neighebore, and suche semblable thinges, agahis his duete 
peraventure, but that he liath his herte and his entente 
in such a proud desir to be magnified and honoured toforn 
the poeple. 

Now ben there tuo maners of pride ; that oon is heigh- 
nes, withinne the hert of a man, and that other is with- 
oute. Of which sothly these forsayde thinges, and mo than 
I have said, aperteynen to pride that is in the hert of a 
man ; and that other spices of pride ben witlioute ; but 
natheles, that oon of thise spices of jiride is signe of that 
other, right as the gay levesselle at the taverne is signe of 
wyn that is in the celer. And this is in many thinges ; as 
in speche and contienaunce, and in outrageous array of 
clothing. For certis, if ther hadde be no synne in cloth- 
ing, Crist wolde not so soone have notid and spoke of the 
clothing of thilke riche man in the gospel . And seint Greg- 
orie saith, that precious clothing is coupable for derthe of 



520 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



it, and for his schortnes,!* and for his straungenes and dis- 
gisines, and for the superfluite, or for the inordinat skant- 
nes of it ; alias ! many man may sen as in oure dayes, the 
synful costlewe array of clothing, and namely in to moche 
superfluite, or elles in to disordinat skantnes. 

As to the firste synne in superfluite of clothing, which 
that makid is so dere, to harm of the people, not oonly the 
cost of embrowdyng, the guyse, endentyng or barryng, 
swandyng, palyng, or bendyng,^^ and semblable wast of 
cloth in vanite ; and ther is also costlewe furring in here 
gownes, so mochil pounsyng of chiseles to make holes, so 
moche daggyng of scheris, for with the superfluite in 
lengthe oX the forsaide gownes, traylinge in the donge and 
in the myre, on hors and eek on foote, as wel of man as 
of womman, that al tliilke traylyng is verraily (as in ef- 
fect) wasted, consumed, thredbare, and rotyn with donge, 
rather than it is geven to the pore, to gret damage of the 
forsaide pore folk, and that in sondry wise ; this is to sain, 
the more that cloth is wastid, the more most it coste to 
the poeple for the scarsenes ; and forthermore, if it so be 
that tliay wolde give suche pounsed and daggid clothing 
to the pore folk, it is not convenient to were to the pore 
folk, ne suffisaunt to beete here necessite, to kepe hem fro 
the desperance of the firmament. Upon that other syde, 
to speke of the horrible disordinat scantnes of clothing, as 
ben these cuttid sloppisor anslets,!^ that thurgh her schort- 
nes ne covereth not the schamful membre of man, to 
wickld entent ; alas ! som men of hem schewen the scliap 
and the boce of the horrible swollen membres, that semeth 
like to the maledies of hirnia, in the wrapping of here hose, 
and eek the buttokes of hem, that faren as it Avere the 
hinder part of a sche ape in the fulle of the moone. And 
moreover the wrecchid swollen membres that thay schewe 
thurgh desgysyng, in departyng of here hoses in whyt and 
reed, seemith that half the schameful prive membres were 
ilayn. And if it so be that thay departe here hosen in 
other colours, as is whit and bliew, or whit and blak, or 
blak and reed, and so forth ; thanne semith it, as by vari- 
aunce of colour, that half the party of his privy membris 
ben corrupt by the fuyr of seint Antony, or by cancre, or 
other such meschaunce. And yit of the hynder partye of 
here buttokes it is ful horrible for to see, for certis in that 
partie of here body ther as thay purgen her stynkyng or- 



1* schortnes. So the Harl. Ms. : Tyrwliitt reads ^ 

^5 the guyse endentyng . ..or bending- lu Tyrvvhitt this passage stands 
thus, the disguising, endenting, or bai-ring, ounding, paling, winding, or 
bending. 

^« ansletS' Tyrwliitt reads witb the Lauied. Ms. hanselines. 



THE PEESONE'^ 'r^ALE. 527 



dure, that foule party schewe thay to the j.oeple proudly 
in despyt of honeste, which honeste that Jliesu Crist and 
liis frendes observ^eden to schewen in his lif. Now as of the 
outrageous array of wonjinen, God wot, that though the 
visage of some of hem seme ful chaste and debonaire, yit 
notifye thay, in here array of attyre, hcorousnesse and 
pride. 1 say not that honeste in clothing of man or wom- 
man is uncovenable, but certis the superfiuite or disordinat 
skantnes of clothing is reprevable. Also the synne of here 
ornament, or of apparaile, as in thinges that aperteynen 
to rydyng, as in to many delicat horses, that ben holden 
for delyt, that thay ben so faire, fat, and costlewe ; and 
also in many a vicious knave, mayntened bycause of hem ; 
and in to curious harnoys, as in sadelis, and bridJis, crop- 
ours, and peytrelle, covered with precious clothing, and 
riche barres and plates of gold and of silver. For wliiche 
God saith by Zacliarie the prophete, I wol confounde the 
ryders of suche horsis. These folk take litil reward of the 
ryding of Goddes sone of heven, and of his barneys, whan 
he rode upon an asse, and hadde noon other barneys but 
the clothing of his disciples newe. Ne rede I not that 
ever he rode on other beest. I speke this for the synne 
of superfluite, and nought for resonable honeste, whan 
resoun it requirith. And fortherover, certes pride is gretly 
notified in holdyng of gret nieyne, whan tljay ben of lilil 
profj-t or of right no profyt, and namely whan that 
meyne is felenous and daungerous to the jDoeple by hardy- 
nesse of lordschipe, or by way of offices ; for certes, suche 
lordes selle thanne here lordschipe to the devel of helle, 
whan thay susteyne the wickidnes of here meyne. Or elles, 
whan these folk of lowe degre, as is thilke that holden hos- 
tilries, and susteyne the thefte of here hostilers, and that 
is in many maneres of disceytes; thilke maner of folk ben 
tlie flyes that folwen the hony, or elles the houndes that 
folwen the carayn. Suche forsayde folk strangelen spirit- 
uelly here lordschipes ; for whiche thus saith David the 
prophete, Wikked deth moot come upon suche lordschipes, 
and God geve that thay moot descende into helle adoun ; 
for in here houses ben iniquites and schrewednesses, and 
not God of heven. And certes, but thay do amendement, 
right so as Jacob gaf his benisoun to Laban by the service 
of God, and to Pharao by the service of Joseph, right so 
God wil geve his malisoun to suche lordschipes as sus- 
teynon the wikkednes of her servauntes, but thay come to 
anjendement. 

Pride of the table apperith ful ofte ; for certes richo 
men ben cleped to feste, and pore folk ben put away 



and rebuked ; also in excesse of divers metis and drinkis, 
and namely of suche maner of bake metis and dische 
metis brennyng of Avilde fuyr, and peynted and castelid 
with papire, and semblable wast, so that it is abusioun for 
to thinke. And eek in greet preciousnes of vessel, and in 
curiousnesse of vessel, and of mynstralcye, by the whiche 
a man is stired the more to delitis of luxurie, if so be 
that thay sette her herte the lasse upon oure Lord 
Jhesu Crist, certeyn it is a synne ; and certeinly the 
delites mighte be so grete in this caas, that men mighte 
lightly falle by hem into dedly synne. The espices that 
sourdren of pride, sothely whan thay sourdren of mal- 
ice y-magined and avised, aforn cast, or elles of usage, 
ben dedly synnes, it is no doute. And whan thay sour- 
den by frelte unavysed sodeinly, and sodeinly withdrawe 
agayn, al be thay grevous synnes, 1 gesse thay ben not 
dedly. Now mighte men axe, wherof pride sourdeth and 
springeth. I say som tyme it springith of the goodes 
of nature, and som tyme of the goodes of fortune, and 
som tyme of the goodes of grace. Certes the goodes of 
nature stonden outlier in goodes of body, or goodes of 
soule. Certis, the goodes of the body ben hele of body, 
strengthe, deliverance,^^ beaute, gentrie, fraunchise ; the 
goodes of nature of the soule ben good wit, scharp un- 
derstondyng, subtil engyn vertu naturel, good memorie ; 
goodes of fortune been richesses, highe degrees of lord- 
schipes, and preisyng of the poeple j goodes of graco been 
science, power to sulfre spirituel travaile, benignite, ver- 
tuous contemplacioun, withstondyng of temptacioun, ai.d 
semblable thinges ; of whiche forsayde goodes, certes it 
is a ful gret foly, a man to pryden him in any of hem 
alle. Now as for to speke of goodes of nature, God wot 
that som tyme we have hem in nature as moche to oure 
damage as to oure profit. As for to speke of hele of body, 
certes it passith ful lightly, and eek it is ful ofte enchesoun 
of the siknesse of the soule. For God wot, the fleissch is a 
gret enemy to the soule , and therfore the more that oure 
body is hool, the more be we in peril to falle. Eke for to 
pride him in his strengthe of body, it is a foly ; for certes 
the fleisch coveytith again the spirit ; and ay the more 
strong that the fleisch is, the sorier may the soule be ; and 
over al, this strengthe of body and worldly hardynes 
causeth ful ofte many man peril and meschaunce. Eek 
for to pride him of his gentrie is ful gret folye ; for often 
tyme the gentrie of the body bynymeth the gentery of the 
fioule ; and we ben alle of oon fader and of oon moder j 
1^ delivenuiceo Tyrwhitt reads delivernesse. 



THE PERSONES TALE. 529 



and alle we ben of oon nature rotcn and corrupt, bothe 
riehe and pore. For sotho oon iiianer gentry is for to 
prayse, that apparailleth mannes corra^e with vertues and 
niorahtees, and niakith liim Cristes child ; for trustitli 
wel, over what man that synne hath luaistry, he is a verray 
cherl to synne. 

]Now ben ther general signes of gentilesse ; as schewyng 
of vice and rybaudrie and servage of synne, in word, in 
werk and contenaunce, and usinge vertu, curtesie, and 
clennes, and to be liberal, that is to sayn, large bjMiiesure ; 
for thilke that passith mesure is foly and synne. And an- 
other is to remembre him of bounte that he of other folk 
hath resceyved. Another is to be benigne to his goode 
subjectis ; wherfore, as saith Senek, ther is nothing more 
covenable to a man of heigh estate, than debonairte and 
pite ; and therfore thise flies that men clepen bees, whan 
thay make here king, thay chesen oon that hath no pricke 
wherwith he may stynge. Another is, a man to have a 
noble herte and a diligent, to atteigne to hihe vertuous 
thinges. Certis, also who that pridetii him in the goodes 
of grace, is eek an outrageous fool ; for thilke giftes of 
grace that schulde have i-torned him to goodnes and medi- 
cyne, torneth him to venym and to confusioun, as saith seint 
Gregory. Certis also, who that pridith him in the goodes 
of fortune, he is a ful gret fool ; for som tyme is a man a 
gret lord by the morwe, that is a caytif and a wrecche er it 
be night : and som tyme the riches of a man is cause of 
his deth : and som tyme the delice of a man is cause of his 
grevous maledye, thurgh which he deieth. Certis, the 
commendacioun of the poeple is som tyme ful fals and ful 
brutil for to truste ; this day thay prayse, to morwe thay 
blame. God woot, desir to have commendacioun of the 
poeple hath causid deth of many a busy man. 

Remedium contra superMam. 

Now sith so is, that ye han herd and understonde what 
is pride, and whiche ben the spices of it, and whens pride 
sourdeth and springeth ; now schul ye understonde which is 
the remedy agayns pride ; and that is humilite or meekenes, 
that is a vertue thurgh wdiich a man hath verray knowleche 
of himself, and holdith of himself no pride, ne pris, ne deynte, 
as in regard of his desertes, considering evermore his frelte. 
Now ben therthre maners of humilite ; as humilite in hert, 
another is humility in his mouth, the thridde in workes. 
Tl)(' humilite in his herte is in foure maners ; that oon is, 
wiian a man holdith himself not worth biforn God of heven ', 

8^ 



630 THE CAJSlERBVllY TALJbJ;^. 



another is, whan he despiseth no man ; the thrid is, av Viaa 
h > ne rekkith nought though a man holde him nought 
worth ; the fertile is, ,vlian lie holdetli liiin nouglit sory of 
his liumiliaciouu. Also the humilite of mouth is in foure 
tliinges; in attem])re speche ; in humbles vi speche ; and 
wlian he byknowith with his owne moutii, that he is such as 
himtiienkith that he is in herte ; another is, whan he praisith 
tlie buunte of another man and nothing tlierof amenusith. 
llumihte eekin werk is in foure maneres. The first is, wlian 
he puttith other men tofore him ; thesecounde is, to chese 
the lowest place over al ; the thrid is, gladly to assente to 
good counseil ; the fertln^ is, gladly ^ stond to thaward of 
his sovereyns, or of him that is in heigher degre ; certeyn 
this is a gret werk of humilite. 

Do invidia. 

After pride now wol I speke of the fonle synne of envyo, 
which that is, as by tli' word of the philosophre, sorwe of 
other niennes i)rosperite ; and after the word of seint 
Austyn, it is sorwe of other mennes wele, and joye of other 
mennes harm. This foule synne is platly agayns the Holy 
Gost. Al be it so, that every synne is agayn the Holy 
Gost, yit natheles, for as moclie as bounte aperteyneth 
proprely to the Holy Gost, and envye jn-oprely is malice, 
therfore is it proprely agayns the bounte of the Holy Gost. 
Now hath malice tuo spices, that is to sayn, hardnes of 
hert in wickednes, or ellis the fleisch of man is so blynd, 
that he considereth not that he is in synne, or rekketh not 
that he is in synne; which is the hardnes of the devyl. 
That other spice of envye is, whan a man warieth trouthe, 
and wot that it is trouthe, and eek whan he arieth th 3 
grace that God hath geve to his neighebor ; and al this is 
by envye. Certes than is envye the worste synne that is ; 
for sothely alle other synnes ben somtyme oonly agains 
oon special vertu ; but certes envye is agayns alle vertues 
and agayns al goodnes ; ibr it is sory of alle the bounteeo 
of his neighebor ; and in this maner it is divers from all the 
synnes ; for wel unnethe is ther any synne that it ne hath 
som dent in itself, sauf oonly envye, that ever hath in itseh' 
anguisch and sorwe. The spices of envye ben these. Ther 
is first sorwe of other mennes goodnes and of her prosperite ; 
and prosperite is kyndely matier of joye ; thanne is envye 
a synne agayns kynde. The secounde spice of envye is 
joye of other mennes harm ; and that is proprely lik to the 
devyl, that ever rejoyeth him of mennes harm. Of these 
tuo spices Cometh bacbityng ; and tliis synne of bakbytyng 



THE PERSONES TALE. 531 



or detracciouii hath certein spices, as thus: soni man 
praiseth his neighebor by a wickid enterit, for he luakith 
ahvay a wickid knotte atte last eiide ; alway he iiiakitii a 
but at the kist ende, that is thing of more blame, liiau 
wortli is al the pray sing. The secounde spice is, that if a 
man l^e good, and doth or saith a thing to good entent, the 
bacbitcr wol torne al thilke goodnes up-so-doun to his 
schrewed entent. The thridde is to amenuse the bounte of 
his neighebor. The ferthe spiece of bakbytyng is this, that 
if men speke goodnes of a man, than wil the bakbiter seyn, 
" Parfay, yit such a man is bet than he ; " in dispraysynge 
of him that men praise. The fifte spice is this, for to con- 
sente gladly and herken gladly to the harnj that men speke 
of other folk. The f^ynne is ful gret, and ay encresith after 
thentent of the bakbiter. After bakbytyng cometh 
grucching or murmuracioun, and som tyme it springith of 
impacience 1^ agayns God, and somtyme agains man 
Agayns God is it whan a man grucchith agayn the pyiie of 
helle, or agayns poverte, or of losse of catel, or agayns reyn 
or tempest, or elles grucchith that schrewes han prosperile, 
or ellis that goode men han adversite ; and alle these 
tliinges schulde men suffre paeiently, for thay come by 
rightful juggement and ordinaunce of God. Som tyme 
cometh grucching of avarice, as Judas grucched agens the 
Maudeleyn, whan sche anoynted the hedof oure Lord Jhesu 
Crist with liir precious oynement. This maner murmur is 
swich as whan man grucchith of goodnes that liimself doth, 
or that other folk doon of here owne catel. Som tyme 
cometh murmur of pride, as whan Symon the Pharise 
grucchid agayn the Maudeleyn, whan sche approchid to 
Jliesu Crist and wepte at his feet for hir synnes ; anel som- 
tyme it sourdith of envye, whan men discoveren a mannes 
harm that was prive, or bereth him on hond thing that is 
fals. Murmuryng eek is ofte among servauntz, that 
grucchen whan here soverayns bidden hem to doon leeful 
thiiiges ; and for as moche as thay dar nought openly 
withstonde the comaundementz of here soverayns, yit wol 
thay sayn harm and grucche and murmure prively for 
verray despit ; whiche wordes men clepe the develes Pater 
noster, thougli so be that the devel hadde never Pater 
noster, but thot lewed men calle it so. Som tyme it cometh 
of ire of prive hate, that norischeth rancour in herte, as 
after-ward. I schal declare. Thanne cometh eek bitterneo 
of herte, thorugh which bitternesse every good deede of 
his neighebore semeth to him bitter and unsavery. But 
thauue cometh discord that unbyndeth alle maner oi 
w mpaciencc. TheHarl. Ms. reads insavitns. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



frendschipe. Thanne coineth scornynge of his neighebor, al 
do he never so wel. Thanne cometh accusyng, as whan 
man seketb occasioun to annoyen his neighebore, which 
that is hk the craft of the devel, that waytith both night 
and day to accuse us alle. Thanne cometh inahgnite, 
thurgh Avhich a man annoyeth his neighebor prively if he 
may, and if he may not, algate his wikkid wille schal 
nought wante, as for to brenne his hous prively, or em- 
poysone him, or sleen his bestis prively, and semblabio 
thinges. 

Remedium contra invidiam. 

Now wol I speke of the remedies agayns thise foule 
things and this fou'le synne of envye. First is the love of 
God principal, and lovynge of his neighebor as himself ; 
sothely that oon ne may nought ben withoute that other. 
And truste wel, that in the name of thy neighebour thou 
schal t understonde the name of thy brother ; tor certes 
alle we have oon fader fleisschly, and oon mooder, that is 
to sain, Adam and Eva ; and eek oon fader spirituel, and 
that is God of heven. Thy neighebor artow holden for to 
love, and wilne him al godenesse, and therfore saith God, 
love thy neighebor as thyself; that is to sayn, bothe to 
savacioun of lif and of soule. And moreover thou schalt 
love him in word, and in behigne amonestyng and chas- 
tising, and comforte him in his annoyes, and praye for him 
with al thin herte. And in dede thou schalt love him in 
such wise that thou schalt do to him in charite, as thou 
woldist it were doon to thin oughne persone ; and therfore 
thou schalt doon him noon harme in wikked word, ne 
damage him in his body, ne in his catel, ne in his soule, by 
wicked entising of ensample. Thou schalt nought desiren 
his wif, ne noone of his thinges. Understonde eek that in 
the name of neighebor is comprehendid his enemy ; certes 
man schal love his enemy by the comaundement of God, 
and sothly thy frend schalt thou love in God. I sayde 
thin enemy schaltow love for Goddes sake, by his comaunde- 
ment ; for if it were resoun that man schulde hate his 
enenjy, for sotlie God nolde nought receyve us to his love 
that ben his enemyes. Agains thre maner of wronges that 
his enemy doth to him, he schal do thre things, as thus : 
agayns hate and rancour of herte, he schal love him in 
herte ; agayns chydyng and wicked wordes, he schal pray 
for his enemye ; agains wikked dede of his enemy, he schal 
doon him bounte. For Crist saith, loveth youre enemyes, 
and prayeth for hem that speke you harme, and for hem 



Tlir PERSONES TALE. 533 



tluit yow chacen and pursewen ; and doth boiinte to hem 
that yow haten. Lo, thus comaundeth us cure Lord 
Jhesu Crist to do to oure eneinyes ; for sothely nature 
driveth us to love oure frendes, and parfay oure eneuiyes 
han more neede to love than oure frendes. For sothely to 
hem that more neede have, certes to hem schul men do 
goodnes. And certis in thilke dede have we remembraunce 
of the love of Jhesu Crist that dyed for his enemys. And 
in als moche as thilke love is more grevous to parforme, so 
moche is the more gret remedye and meryt, and therefore 
the iovyng of oure enemy hath confoundid the venym of the 
devel ; for right as the devel is confoundid by humilite, 
right so is he woundid to the deth by love of oure enemy. 
Certes thanne is love the medicine that castith out the 
venym of envye fro mannes hert. The spices of this part 
schuln be more largely declared in here chapitres folwynge. 

De ira. 

After envye wol I descryven the synne of ire ; for sothely 
"who so hath envye upon his neighebor, auoon he wol 
comunly fyndehim a matiere of wraththein word or in dede 
Ggayns him to whom he hath en vie. And as wel cometh ire 
of pride as of envye, for sothly he that is proud or envyous 
is lightly wroth. This synne of ire, after the descryvyng of 
seint Austyn, is wikked wille to ben avengid by word or by 
dede. Ire, after the philosofer, is the fervent blood of man 
i-quiked in his hert, thurgh which he wolde harm to him 
that him hatith ; for certes the hert of man by eschawfyng 
and moevyng of his blood waxitli so trouble, that he is out 
ofallejuggements of resoun. But ye schal understonde that 
ire is in tuo maneres, that oonof hem is good, that other i3 
wikked. The goode ire is by jalousy of goodnesse, thurgh 
which a man is wroth with wikkidnes and agayn wikked- 
nesse. And therfore saith a wise man,that ire is bet than play. 
This ire is with deboneirte, and it is wroth without bitter- 
nes ; not wroth with the man, but wroth with the mysdedes 
of the man ; as saith the prophet David, Irascimini, et 
nolite peccare, etc. Now understonde that wikked ire is in 
tuo maners, that is to sayn, sodeynire or hastif ire withoute 
avysement and consenting of resoun ; the menynge and 
the sentence of thi's is, that the resoun of a man ne con- 
sentith not to thilke sodein ire, and thanne is it venial. 
Another ire is ful wicked, that cometh of felony of herte, 
avysod and cast biforn, with wickid wille to do vengeaunce, 
and therto his resoun consentith ; and sothely this l9 
deedly synne. This ire is so displesaunt to God, that it; 



534 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



troublitli his hous, and chaceth the holy Gost out of 
inanries soule, and was tith and destroyeth that hkiies of God, 
that is to say, the vertu that is in mannes soule, and put 
in hiui the hkenes of the devel, and bynymeth the man fro 
God that is his rightful lord. This iro is a f ul greet plesaunce 
to the devel, for it is tho develes fornays that is eschaufid 
with tho fuyr of hello. For certes right so as fuyr is more 
mighty to c -stroj^e erthely thinges, than eny other element, 
right so ire is mighty to destroye alle spirituel thinges. 
Loke how that fuyr of smale gledis, that ben almost dede 
under asshen, woldenquiken agayn whan thay ben touched 
with brimstone, right so ire wol evermore quyken agayn 
whan it is touched by pride that is covered in mannes 
herte. For certes fuyr may nought come out of no thing, 
but if it were first in the same thinge naturelly ; as fuyr is 
drawe out of flintes with steel. Right so as pride is often 
tyme mater of ire, right so is rancour norice and keper of 
ire. Ther is a maner tree, as saith seint Isidor, that whan 
men maken fuyr of thilke tree, and cover the colis with 
asshen, sothly the fuyr of it wol fasten al a yer or more; 
and right so faretii it of ran our, whaiiit> ones isconceyved 
in the hertis of som men, certein it wol lasten fro oon 
Estren day until another Ester day, and more. But certis 
thilke man is ful fer from the mercy of God al thilke while. 

In this forsaide develes fornays ther forgen thre 
schrewes ; pride, that ay blowith and encresith the fuyr l)y 
chidyng and wickid wordis ; thanne stont envye, and 
holdeth the hoote iren upon the hert of man, with a paire 
of longe tonges of rancour ; and thanne stont the sinne of 
contumelie or strif and cheste, and baterith and forgeth 
by vileyns reprevynges. Certes this cursed synne annoy- 
eth bothe to the man himsilf, and eek to his neighebor. 
For sothely almost al the harm that eny man doth to his 
neighebour cometh thurgh wrath the. For certis, outrage- 
ous wraththe doth al that ever the devyl him comaund- 
eth ; for he ne spareth neyther for our Lord Jhesu Crist, 
ne his moodir ; and in his outrageous anger and ire, alias ! 
ful njany oon at that tyme felith in his herte ful wikkedly, 
bothe of Crist, and eek of alle his halwes. Is nat this t: 
cursed vice ? Yis, certis. It bynymeth fro man his witte 
and his resoun, and al his deboneire lyf spirituel, that 
scholde kepen his soule. Certes it bynymeth eek Goddis 
dewe lordschipe (and that is mannes soule) and the love of 
his neighebor ; it stry veth eek alday agayns trouthe ; i I 
reveth him eek the quiete of his hert, and subvertith his 
herte and his soule. 

Of ire cometh these stynkynge engendrures ; first, hate. 



TiSE PERSONES TALE, 535 



that is old wraththe ; discord, thnrgli whicli a ii an for- 
sakitli his olde frend tliat he hath loved ful lou^c ; and 
thanue conieth werre, and every iiianer of wronge that 
man doth to his neighebor in body or in catel. Of this 
cursed synne of ire cometh eek manslaughter. And under- 
stonde wel that homicidie (that is, manslaughter) is in 
divers wise. Som maner of homicidie is Fpirituel, and som 
is bodily. Spirituel manslaughter is in sixe thinges. First, 
by hate, as saith seint Jolian, he that hateth his brother, 
is an homicide. Homicide is eek by bakbytyng, of whiche 
bakbiters saith Salomon, that thay have twaye swerdes 
with whiche thay slen here neighebors ; for sothely as 
wikke is to bynyme his good name as his lif. Homicidy is 
eek in gevyng of wikkid counseil by fraude, as for to geve 
counseil to areyse wicked and wrongful custumes and tali- 
ages ; of whiche saith Salomon, a leoun rorvng and here 
hungry ben like to the cruel lordschipes, in withholdyng 
or abrigging of the schipe or the hyre or the wages of ser- 
vauntes, or ellis in usure, or in withdrawyng of almes of 
pore folk. For whiche the wise man saith, feedith him 
that almost dyeth for hunger, for sothely but if thou feede 
him thou slest him. And eek these ben dedly synnes. 
Bodily manslaughter is, whan thou sleest him with thy 
tonge in other manere, as whan thou comaundist to slen 
a man, or elles givest counseil to slee a man. Man- 
slaughter in dede is in foure maneres. That oon is by 
lawe, right as a justice dampnith him that is coupable to 
the detii ; but let the justice be war that he do it right- 
fully, and that he do it nought for delit to spille blood, 
but for keping of rightwisnes. Another homicidy is doon 
for necessite, as whan a man sleth another him defendaunt, 
and that he ne may noon other wise eschape fro his 
owen deth ; but certeynly, if he may escape withoute 
slaughter of his adversarie, and sleth him, he doth synne, 
and he schal bere penaunce as for dedly synne. Eek if a 
man by caas or adventure schete an arwe or cast a stoon 
with which he sleth a man, he is an homicide. Eke if a 
womman by negligence overlye hir child in hir sleping, it 
is homicide and deedly synne. Eke whan man distourbith 
concepcioun of a child, and makith a womnian outlier 
bareyn by drinke of venenous herbis, thurgh whiche sche 
may nought conceyve, or sleth hir child by drynkes, or 
elles putteth certeyn material thinges in hir secre place to 
slee the child, or elles doth unkyndely synne, by which 
man, or womman, schedith here nature in manne or ia 
place ther as the child niay nought be conceyved ; or elTa 
of a womman have conceyved, and hurt hirself, and sie-il 



536 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



the child, yit is it homycidie. What say we eek of woinnien 
that luordren here children for drede of worldly schauie ? 
Certes, it is an horrible homicidy. Eek if a man approche 
to a womnian by desir of lecchery, tliurgh the which the 
child is pericht ; or elles sniitith a woniman wytyngly, 
thurgh which sche sleeth his child ; alle these ben homi- 
cides, and horrible dedly synnes. Yit cometh ther of ire 
many mo synnes, as wel in word, as in werk and thought ; 
as he that arettith upon God, and blamitliGod of thing oif 
which he is himself gulty, or despisith God and alle his 
halwes, as doon these cursed hasardours in divers cun- 
trees. This cursed synne don thay, whan thay felen in 
here herte ful wickidly of God and his halwes. Also whan 
thay treten unreverently the sacrament of the auter, thilke 
synne is so gret, that unnethe may it be relessed, but that 
the mercy of God passith alle his werkes, and is so gret 
and so benigne. Thanne cometh of ire attry anger, whan 
a man is sharply amonested in his schrifte to forlete synne, 
thanne wol he be angry, and answere hokerly and angrily, 
to defenden or excusen his synne by unstedefastnesse of 
his fleisch ; or elles he dede it to holde companye with 
his felawes ; or ellis he saith the fend entised him ; or elles 
he dide it for his youthe ; or ellis his complexioun is so 
corrageous thai he may not forbere ; or elhs it is desteny, 
as he saith, unto a certeyn age ; or elles he saith it cometh 
him of gentilesce of his auncetrie, and semblable thinges. 
Alle these maner of folk so Avrappen hem in here synnes, 
that thay wol nought deliver himself. For sothely, no 
wight that excuseth him wilwully of his synne, may nought 
be delivered of his synne, til that he mekely biknoweth 
his synne. After this'thanne cometh sweryng, that is ex- 
pres agayns the comaundementz of God ; and this bifal- 
hth often of angir and of ire. God saith, thou schalt 
not take the name of thy Lord God in vayn or in ydil. 
Also, oure Lord Jhesu Crist saith by the word of seint 
Mathew, ne schal ye not swere in alio manere, neither by 
heven, for it is Goddes trone, ne by the eorthe, for it is the 
benche of his feet, ne by Jerusalem, for it is the cite of a 
gret king, ne by thin heed, for thou may nought make an 
her whit ne blak \ but sayeth, by youre word, ye, ye, and 
nay, nay ; and what it is more, it is of evel. Thus saith 
Jhesu Crist. For Cristes sake, swereth not so synfuUy, in 
dismembring of Crist, by soule, herte, boones, and body ; 
for certes it semetli, that ye thenke that cursed Jewes ne 
dismembrit nought y-nough the precious persone of Crist, 
but ye dismembre him more. And if so be that the lawe 
compelle yow to swere, thanne reule yow after the lawe of 



THE PEBSONES TALE. 537 



God in youre swerinf;, as saith Jeremie, Cq. iiij°. Thou 
schalt kepe thre condiciouns, tliou schalt swere in trouthe, 
in doom, and in rightwisnes. Tliis is to sayn, thou schalt 
swere soth ; for every lesyng is agayns Crist; for Crist is 
verray trouthe. And think wel this, that every gret 
swerer, not compeUid lawfully to swere, the wounde ^^ 
echal not depart fro his hous^ whil he useth such unleful 
sweringe. Thou schalt eek swere in doom, whan thou art 
constreigned by thy domesman to witnesse the trouthe. 
Eek thou schalt not swere for envye, ne for favour, ne for 
nieede, but oonly for rightwisnesse, and for declaring of it 
to the worschip of God, and helping of thin even cristen. 
And therfore every man that takith Goddes name in ydil, 
or falsly swerith with his mouth, or elles takith on him 
tlie name of Crist, and callith himself a cristen man, and 
lyveth agayn Cristes lyvyng and his teching, alle thay take 
Goddes name in ydel. Loke eek what saith seint Peter, 
Act. c". iiij'^. Non est aliud nomen sub coelo. etc.; There is 
noon other name, saith seint Peter, under heven ne geven 
to noon men, in which thay mowe be saved, that is to 
sayn, but in the name of Jhesu Crist. Tak heede eek how 
precious is the name of Crist, as gaith seint Poule, ad 
Fhilippenses ij^'. In nomine Jhesu, etc. tha^ in the 
name of Jhesu every kne of hevenly creatures, or erthelv, 
or of belle, schulde bowe ; for it is so heigh and so wor- 
pchipful, that the cursed feend in belle schulde tremble to 
heeren it nempned. Thanne semeth it, that men that 
sweren so horribly by his blessed name, that thay despise 
it more boldely ^^ than dede the cursed Jewes, or elles the 
devel, that tremblith whan he heerith his name. 

Now certis, sith that swering (but if it be lawfully doon) 
is so heihly defendid, moche wors is forswering falsely, and 
yit needeles. 

What say we eek of hem that deliien hem in swering, 
and holden it a gentery or manly dede to swere grete othis ? 
And what of hem that of verray usage ne cessen nought to 
swere grete othis, al be the cause not Avorth a strawe ? 
Certes this is horrible synne. Sweryng sodeynly without 
avysement is eek a gret synne. But let us now go to 
thiike horrible sweryng of adjuracioun and conjuraciouns, 
as doon these false enchauntours or nigromanciens in 
bacines ful of water, or in a bright swerd, in a cercle,2i or 
in a fuyr, or in the schulder bon of a sclieep ; I can not 



J»> irnnnde. Tyrwhitt reads plage ; the Harl. Ms. reads w&iuler, 
so hohlely. The Harl. Ms. reads body hi. 
^ cerciii, Th& Harl, M^. r<;adi> m a ctiiircke. 



538 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



sayn, but that thay doon cursedly and dampnably agains 
Crist, and the faith of holy chirche. 

What say we of hem that bilieven on divinailes, as by 
flight or by nois of briddes or of bestes, or by sort, by geo- 
mancio, by dromes, by chirkyng of dores or crakking of 
howses, by rjnciwyng of rattis, and such maner wrecchid- 
nes ? Gertis, al this thing is defended by God and holy 
chirche, for whiche thay ben accursed, til thay come to 
amendement, that on such filthe bisetten here bileeve. 
Charmes for woundes or malady of men or of bestes, if 
tiit^y take eny effect, it may be peradventure that God 
suffreth it, for folk schulde geve the more faith and rev- 
erence to his name. 

Now wol 1 speke of lesynge, whiche generally is fals 
signifiaunce of word, in entent to descey ven his even 
cristen. Som lesyng is, of whiche ther cometh noon 
avauntage to noon wight ; and som lesyng torneth to the 
ease or profit of som man, and to damage of another man. 
Another lesyng is, for to save his lif or his catel. An- 
other lesyng cometh of delit for to lye, in w^hich delit thay 
wol forge a long tale, and paynte it with alle circum- 
staunces, v/her as the ground of the tale is fals. Som 
lesyng cometh, for he wolde susteyne his word. Som 
lesyng cometh of rechelesnes withoute avisement, and 
semblable thinges. 

Lat us now touche the vice of flaterie, which cometh 
not gladly, but for drede, or for coveitise. Flaterie is 
generally wrongful preysing. Flaterers ben the develes 
norices, that norisshenhis children with mylk of losingerie. 
For sothe Salomon saith, that flaterie is worse than detrac- 
cioun ; for som tyme detraccioun makitli an hawteynnian 
be the more humble, for he dredith detraccioun, but certes 
flaterie nicikith a man to enhaunsen his hert and his coun- 
tenaunce. Flaterers ben the develes enchauntours, for 
thay make man to w^ene of himself that he is like to that 
he is nought like. Thay ben like Judas, that bitraied 
God ; and thise flaterers bitrayen a man to selle him to his 
enemy, that is the devel. Flaterers ben the develes 
chapeleyns, that singen ay Placebo. I rekene flaterie in 
the vices of ire ; for ofte tyme if oon man be wroth with 
another, thanne wol he flatere som man, to mayntene him 
in his querei. 

Speke we now of such cursyng as cometh of irons hert. 
Malisoun generally may be said every maner power of 
harm ; such cursyng bireveth man fro the regne of God, 
as saith seint Poule. And ofte tyme such cursyng wrong- 
fully retourneth agayn to hym that curseth, as a biird 



THE PERSONES TALE. 539 



retourneth agayn to his owne nest. And over alle thinges 
men oughten eschewe to cursen here oughne children, and 
give to the devel here engendrure, as ferforth as in hem is ; 
certis it is gret peril and gret synne. 

Let us thanne Si3eke of chydynge and reproche, whiche 
that ben ful grete woundes in niannes hert, for they un- 
sewe the semes of frendschipe in mannes herte ; for certis, 
unnethe may a man plainly ben accordid with him that 
him openly revyled, reproved, and disclaundrid ; this is a 
ful grisly synne, as Crist saith in the Gospel. And takith 
keep now, that he that reproveth his neighebor, outher he 
reproveth him by som harm of peyne, that he hath upon 
his body, as iiiesel, croked harlot ; or by som synne that 
he doth. Now if he repreve him by harm of peyne, thanne 
tornith the reproef to Jhesu Crist ; for peyne is sent by 
the rightwis sonde of God, and by his suffraunce, be it 
meselrie, or many other maladies ; -^ and if he repreve him 
uncharitably of synne, as, thou holour, thou dronkelewe 
harlot, and so forth, thanne aperteyneth that to the re- 
joysing of the devel, that ever hath joye that men doon 
synne. And certis, chidyng may nought come but out 
of a vileins herte, for after the abundaunce of the 
herte speketh the mouth ful ofte. And ye dchal under- 
stonde, that loke by any way, whan any man schal chastise 
another, that he be war fro chidyng or reprevyng; for 
ti-ewely, but he be war, he may ful lightly quiken the fuyr 
of anger and of wraththe, which that he schulde quenchen ; 
and pera venture sleth, that he mighte chaste with bcnig- 
nite. For, as sayth Salomon, the amiable tonge is the tree 
of lif ; that is to sayn, of life espirituel. And sothely, a dis- 
lave tonge sleth the spirit of him that repreveth, and also 
of him which is r^preved. Lo, what saith seint Augustyn, 
there is no thing so lik the fendes child, as he that ofte 
chideth, Seint Poule seith eek, a servaunt of God bihoveth 
nought to chide. And though that chidyng be a vileins 
thing bitwixe alle maner folk, yit is it certes more uncov- 
enable bitwix a man and his wif, for ther is never rest. 
And therfore saith Salomon, an hous that is uncovered in 
rayn and droppyng, and a cliidyng wyf, ben like. A man, 
that is in a dropping hous in many partes, though he 
eschewe the dropping in oon placo, it droppeth on him in 
another place ; so farith it by a ciiydinge wyf, Init sche 
cliidf^ him in oon place, sche wol chide him in another. And 
therfore better is a morsel of bred with joye, than an hous 
ful of delices with chyding, seith Salomon. Seint Poul 

*• many other maladies. Tyrwliitt reada muiine, or maladie* 



540 TTIE CANTERBURY TALES. 



saith, o j^e wommen, be ye sugettis to youre housbondes as 
bihovith in Grod ; and ye men, loveth youre Avy ves, 

After-ward speke we of scornyng, which is a wikked 
thing, and sinful, and namely whan he scornith a man for 
his goode workes ; for certes, suche scorners faren lik the 
foule toode, that may nought endure the soote smel of the 
vine roote, whan it florischith. These scorners ben partyng 
felawes with the devel, for thay han joye whan the devel 
wynneth, and sorwe whan he leseth. Thay ben adversaries 
of Jhesu Grist, for thay haten that he loveth, that is to say, 
savacioun of soule. 

Speke we now of wikked counseil ; for he that wickid 
counseil giveth he is a traytour, for he deceyveth him that 
trusteth in him, ut Achitofel ad Absolonejn. But natheles, 
yet is his wikkid counseil tirst agens himself. For, as saith 
the wise man, every fals lyvyng hath this proprete in liim- 
self, that he that wii annoye another man, he annoyeth 
first himself. And men schul understonde, that man 
schulde nought take his counseil of fals folk, ne of angry 
folk, or grevous folk, ne of folk tliat loven specially to 
moche her oughne profyt, ne in to moche worldly folk, 
namely, in counselyng of mannes soule. 

Now cometh the synne of hem that sowen and maken 
discord amonges folk, which is a synne that Crist hateth 
outrely ; and no wondir is, for God died for to make con- 
cord. And more schame do thay to Crist, than dede thay 
that him crucifiede. For God loveth bettie, that frend- 
schipe be amonges folk, thanne he dide his owne body, 
which that he gaf for unitr. Therfore ben thay hkned to 
the devel, that ever ben aboute to make discord. 

Now comith the sinne of double tonge, suche as speken 
faire biforn folk, and wikkedly bihynde ; or elles thay 
make semblaunt as though thay speke of good entencioun, 
or ellis in game and play, and yit thay speke in wikked 
entent. 

Now cometh the wreying of counseil, thurgh which a man 
is defamed ; certes unnethe may he restore that damage. 
Now cometh manace, that is an open foly ; for he that ofte 
manaceth, he threttith more than he may j^arfourme ful 
ofte tyme. Now cometh idel wordes, that is withoute pro- 
fyt of him that spekith the wordes, and eek of him that 
herkeneth tho wordes ; or elles ydel wordes ben tho that 
ben needeles, or withouten entent of naturel profyt. And 
al be it that ydil wordes ben som tyme venial synne, yit 
schulde men doute hem for we schuln give rekenynge of 
hem bifore God. Now comith jangeling, that may nought 
be withoute synne ; and, as saith Salomon, it is a signe of 



THE PERSONES TALE. 641 

ripert folie. And therfore a philosophre said, whan men 
askJd him how men schulde plese the poeple, and he an- 
swerde, do many goode werkes, and spek fewe jangeles. 
After this cometh the synne of japers, that ben the develes 
apes, for thay maken folk to laugheu at here japes or 
japerie, as folk doon at the gaudes of an ape ; suche japes 
defendith seint Poule. Loke how that vertuous and holy 
wordes conforten hem that travailen in the service of Crist, 
right so conforten the viieins'-^^ wordes and knakkis and 
japeries hem that travayle in the service of the devyL 
These ben the synnes that cometh of ire, and of other 
synnes many mo. 

Remedium contra iram. 

Remedye agayns ire, is a vertue that men clepe man- 
suetude, that is deboneirte ; and eek another vertue that 
men clepe pacience or sulTeraunce. Debonairete withdraw- 
ith and restreigneth the gtiringes and the moevynges of 
mannys corrage in his herte, in such manere, that thai ne 
skip not out by anger ne by ire. SufTraunce suffrith 
swetely al the annoyaunce and the wronges that men doon 
to man out-ward. Seint Jerom saith thus of debonairte, 
that it doth noon harm to no wight, ne saith ; ne for noon 
harm that men doon ne sayn, he ne eschaufith nought 
agayns resoun. This vertu comith som tyme of nature ; 
for, as saith the philosopher, man is a quik thing, by 
nature debonaire, and tretable to goodnesse ; but whan 
debonairete is enformed of grace, than is it the more worth, 

Pacience that is another remedie agains ire, is a vertu 
that suffreth swetely every mannes goodnes, and is not 
wroth for noon fiarm that is doon to him. The philosopher 
saith, that pacience is thilke vertue that sufTerith debon- 
eirly alle the outrages of adversite and every wickid word. 
Tliis vertue makith a man lik to God, and makith him 
Gt)ddes oughne dere child, as saith Crist. This vertu de- 
stroyeth thin enemy. And therfore saith the wise man, if 
thou wolt venquisch thin enemy lerne to sutlre. And thou 
schalt understonde, that man suflrith foure maners of 
grevaunces in out- ward thinges, agains whiche he moot 
have four maners of pacience. The firste grevaunce is of 
wicked wordes. Thilke suffred .Thesu Crist, withoute gruc- 
ching, ful paciently, whan the Jewes despised him and re- 
proved him ful ofte. Suffre thou therfore paciently, for 
the wise man saith, if thou strive with a fool, though the 
fool be wroth, or though he laughhe, algate thou schalt 
^ vildns. The Harl. Ms. reads violent. 



542 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



have no rest. That other grevaunce out-ward is to have 
damage of thi catel. Theragayn suffred Crist f ul paciently, 
whan he was despoyhd of al that he had in his hf, and that 
nas but his clothis. The thridde grevaunce is a man to have 
harm in his body. That suffred Crist ful paciently in al his 
passioun. The ferthe grevaunce is in outrageous labour in 
werkis : wherfore I say, that folk that maken here ser- 
vauntz to travaile to grevously, or out of tyme, as on haly 
dayes, sothely thay doon greet synne. Hereagainst suffvfvi 
Crist ful paciently, and taughte us pacience, whan he ha,? 
upon his blisful schulder the croys upon which he schuldj- 
suiTre despitous deth. Here may men lerne to be pacienv-j 
for certes, nought oonly cristen men ben pacient for the love 
of Jhesu Crist, and for guerdoun of the blisful hfe that is 
pardurable, but the olde paynymes, that never were 
cristen, comaundedin and useden the vertu of pacience. A 
philosopher upon a tyme, that wolde have bete his disciple 
for his grete trespas, for which he was gretly amoeved, and 
brought a yerde to scourge the child, and whan the child 
saugh the yerde, he sayde to his maister, " what thenke ye 
to do ? " "I wolde bete the," quod the maister, " for thi 
correccioun." *' Forsothe," quod the child, "ye oughte 
first correcte youresilf, that han lost al youre pacience for 
the gilt of a child." "Forsothe," quod the maister al 
wepyng, " thou saist soth ; have thou the yerde, my deere 
sone, and correcte me for myn impacience." Of pacience 
cometh obedience, thurgh which a man is obedient to Crist, 
and to alle hem to which him oughte to be obedient iu 
Crist. And understonde wel, that obedience is parfyt, 
whan a man doth gladly and hastily with good herte 
outrely al that he scholde do. Obedience is generally to 
parforme the doctrine of God, and of his soveraignes, to 
whiche him oughte to ben obeissant in alle rightwisnes. 

De accidia. 

After the synne of envye and ire, now wol I speke of 
accidie ; for envy3 blendith the hert of a man, and ire 
troublith a man, and accidie makith him hevy, thoTightful, 
and wrawe. Envye and ire maken bitternes in herte, which 
bitternesse is mooder of accidie, and bynimith the love of 
alle goodnes ; thanne is accidie the anguische of a trouble 
hert. And seint Augustyn saith, it is annoye of goodnesse 
and annoye of harme. Certes this is a dampnable synne, 
for it doth wrong to Jhesu Crist, in as moche as it bynymeth 
the service that we ought to do to Crist with alle diligence, 
as saith Salomon ; but accidie doth noon such dihgence. 



THE PEESONES TALE. 543 



He doth alle thing with anoy, and with wraweness,"^ 
plaknes, and excusacioiin, and with yddnes and unlust ^ 
for which the book saith, accursed be he that doth the ser- 
vice of Grod necHgently. Tlianne is accidie enemy to every 
astaat of man. For certes thestatof man is in threnjanert; ; 
either it is thestat of innocence, as was thastate of Adam, 
I'iforn that he fel into synne, in which estate he is holden 
to worche, as in herying and iionouryng of (rod. Another 
astat is thestate of sinful man ; in which estate men ben 
holdeu to labore in praying to God for amendement of her 
synnes, and that he wolde graunte hem to rise out of here 
synnes. Anoth^^r estaat is thestate of grace, in which he 
is holde to werkis of penitence ; and certes, to alle these 
thinges is accidie enemye and contrarie, for it loveth no 
busynes at al. Now certis, this foule synne accidie is eek 
a ful gret enemy to the iflode of the body ; for it hath no 
purveaunce agens ten porel necessitc, for it forslowthitb, 
and forsluggith, and destroyeth al e goodes temporels by 
rechelesnes 

The ferthe thing is that accidie is like hem that ben ir: 
the peyne of helle, bycause of her slouthe and of he^ 
hevynes , for thay that ben dampned, ben so bounde, thai 
thay may nought wel do ne wel thenke. Of accidie conieti^ 
first, that a man is annoyed and encombrid for to do eny 
goodnes and makith that God hath abhominacioun of sucL 
accidie, as saith seint Johan. 

Now cometh slouthe, that wol snffre noon hardnes nt 
no penaunce ; for sothely, slouthe is so tendre and so del- 
icat, as saith Salomon, that he wol sutfre noon hardnes nc 
penaunce, and therfore he schendeth al that he doth. 
Agavns this roten hertid synne of accidie and of slouthc- 
schuiden men exercise hemself to do goode werkes, and 
manly eCTid vertuously cacchin corrage weltodoo, thinking" 
that oure Lord Jhesu Crist quiteth every good dede, be it 
never so lyte. Usage of labour is a ful greet thing ; for it 
makith, as saith seint Bernard, the laborer to have stronge 
amies and harde synewes ; and slouthe maketh hem feble 
and tendre. Thanne cometh drede to bygynne to werke 
eny goode deedes ; for certes, who that is enclined to don 
synne, 2^ him thinkith it is so gret emprise for to undertake 
to doon werkes of goodnes, and casteth in hisherte that the 
circumstaunces of goodnes ben so grevons and so charge- 
aunt for to sullre, that he dare not undertake to doon 
werkes of goodnes,^" as saith seint Gregory. 

" ivraivenes. The Harl. Ms. reads drnweneas. 

2fi who that is enclined to don synne. Tyrvvbitt reads he that encUneth to 
amne. 

*" and casteth . . . werkes 0/ goodnes. Those words are neither in the Fftxl. 
uor Lansd. Mss. 



544 THE CANTEltnUBT TALES. 

Now Cometh wanhope, that is, despair of the I'lorcy of 
God, that Cometh soiii tyine of to moche outrageous sorwe, 
and som tyme of to moche drede, ymagynynge that he hath 
do so moche synne that it will not avaiie him, though he 
wolde repent him, and forsake synne; thurgh which de- 
speir or drede, he abandounith al his herte to alle maner 
gynne, as seith seint Augustin. Whiche dampnable synne, 
if ther it continue unto his lyves endo, it is cleped the syn- 
nyng of the holy gost. This horrible synne is so perilous, 
that he that is despaired, ther is no felonye, ne no synne, 
that he doutith for to do, asschewed wel by Judas. Certes, 
above alle synnes than is this synne most displesant to 
Crist, and most adversarie. Sothely, he that despeirith him, 
is like the coward campioun recreaunt, that Iheth-'^ with- 
oute neede. Alias I alias ! needeles is he recreaunt, and 
needeles despaired. Certes, the mercy of God is ever redy 
to the penitent, and is above alle his werkes. Alias ! can 
not a man bythenk him on the Gospel of seint Luk, wheras 
Crist saith, that as wel schal ther be joye in heven upon a 
synful man that doth penitence, as upon nynety and nyne 
that ben rightful men that needen no penitence ? Loke 
forther in the same Gospel, the joye and the fest of the 
goode man that had lost his sone, whan the sone with re- 
pentaunce was torned to his fader. Can not thay remem- 
bre eek that as saith seint Luk, xxiijo, how that the thef 
that was hangid biside Jhesu Crist, saydo, Lord, remembre 
of me, whan thou comest into thy regne ? For sothe saith 
Crist, to-day thou schalt be with me in paradis. Certis, 
ther is noon so horrible synne of man, that it ne may in his 
lif be destroyed with penitence, thorugh vertue of the pas- 
Fioun of the deth of Crist. Alias ! what needith it man 
thanne to be despaired, sith that his mercy is so redy and 
large ? Aske and have. Thanne cometh sompnolence, 
that is, sluggy slumbring, which makitli a man ben hevy 
and dul in body and in soule, and this synne cometh of 
Flouthe ; and certes, the tyme that by way of resoun man 
schulde nought slepe, that is by the morwe, but if ther 
were cause resonable. For sothely the morwe tyde is most 
covenable to a man to say his prayers, and for to thenk 
upon his God, and to honoure God, and to geve almes to 
the pore that first cometh in the name of Crist. Lo what 
saith Salomon : who so wol by the morwe arise and seeke 
me, schal fynde me. Than cometh negligence that rekkith 
of nothing. And how that ignoraunce be nioder of alle 
harm, certis, necgligence is the norice. Necligence doth 

*f flieth. So Tyrwbitt ; the Harl reads that seith recreaunt tvithoute needeo 
Tho readiug of the Lausd. Ms. is seithe creanU 



THE PERSONES TALE. 645 



no force, whan he schal doon a thing, whethir he doo it 
wel or baddely. 

Of tiie remedy of these tuo synnes, as saith the wise man, 
that he thatdredith God, he sparith nought to do that him 
ought to don ; and he that lovith God, wol do dihgence 
to plese God by his werkis and abounde himself, witli alio 
his might, wel for to doon. Tlianne comith ydelnes, that is 
Ihe gate of alle harmes. An ydil man is like an hous that 
hath noone walles ; the develes may entre on every syde or 
schete at him at discovert by temptaciouns on every syde. 
This ydelnes is the thurrokof alle wickid vileyns thoughtes, 
and of alle jangles, tryfles, and of alle ordure. Certes the 
heven is geven to hem that wol laboure and nought to ydil 
folk. Eke David saith, that thay ne ben not in the labour 
of men, ne thay schul not be wiped with men, that is to 
sain, in purgatorie. Certis thanne semeth it that thay 
schal be tormentid with the devel in helle, but if thay d(jn 
penitence. 

Thanne comith the synne that men clepe tarditas, ac 
whan a man is so latrede or tarying er he wil torne to God ; 
and certis, that is a gret foly. He is like him that fallitii 
into the diche, and wol not arise. And his vice cometh of 
a fals hope, that he thinkith he schal ly ve longe ; but that 
hope fayleth full ofte. 

Tiianne comith laches, that is, he that when he bigyn- 
neth any good werk, anoon he wol forlete it and synte, as 
doon thay that han eny Avight to governe, and ne take of 
hem no more keep anoon as thay fynde eny contrarie or 
eny anoy. These ben the newe schepherdes, that leten her 
schep wityngely go renne to the wolf, tliat is in the breres, 
or don no force of her oughne governaunce. Of this cometh 
povert and destruccioun, bothe of spiritueland of temporel 
thinges. Thanne cometh a maner coldenesse, that freseth 
al the hert of man. Thanne cometh undevocioun thurgh 
which a man is so blunt, and as saith seint Bernard, ho 
hath such a langour in soule, that he may neyther rede ne 
eynge in holy chirche, ne heere ne thinke on devocioun in 
holy chirche, ne travayle with his hondes in no good werk, 
that nys to him unsavory and al apalled. Thanne waxitli 
he slowe and slombry, and soone wol he be wroth, and 
soone is enclined to hate and to envye. Thanne cometh 
the synne of worldly sorwe such as is clepid tristitia, that 
sleth man, as saith seint Poule. For certis such sorwe 
werkith to the deth of the soule and of the body also, for 
therof cometh, that a man is anoyed of his oughne lif, 
which sorwe schorteth ful ofte the lif of a man or that his 
tymo IS come by way of kynde. 



546 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



Remedium contra accidiam. 

Agains this horrible synne of accidie, and the braunches 
of the same., ther is a vertu tliat is cleped fortitudo or 
strengthe, that is, an affeccioun thurgh which a man de- 
spiseth alle noyous thinges. This vertu is so mighty and 
so vigurous, that it dar witiistonde mightily the devel, 
and wisely kepe himself from perils that ben wiched, and 
Tvrastil agains the assautes of the devel ; for it enhaunsiih 
and enforceth the soule, right as accidie abateth it and 
makith it feble ; for this fortittido may endure with long 
sufferaunce the travailes that ben covenables. This vertu 
hath many spices; the first is cleped magnanimity, that is 
to sayn gret corrage. For certis ther bihoveth gret cor- 
rage agains accidie, lest that it ne swolwe not the soule 
by the synne of sorwe, or destroye it by wanhope. 
This vertu makith folk undertake harde and grevous 
thinges by her owne wille, wilfully and resonably. And 
for als moche as the devel fighteth agaynst a man more by 
queyntise and by sleight than by strengthe, therfore many 
a man schal ageinstonde him by witte, and by resoun, and 
by discrecioun. Thanne is ther the vertu of faith, and 
hope in God and in his seintes, to acheven ^^ and to accom- 
plice the goode werkes, in the Avhiche he purposith fermely 
to continue. Thanne cometh seurte or sikernes, and that 
is whan a man doutith no travailein tyme comyng of good 
werk that a man hath bygonne. Thanne cometh magnifi- 
cence, that is to say, whan a man doth and performith 
grete werkes of goodnesse that he hath bygonno, and that is 
thend why that men schulden do goode Averkes. For in the 
accomplising of grete goode werkes lith the grete guerdoun. 
Thanne is ther constaunce, that isstablenes of corrage, and 
this schulde ben in herte by stedefast faith, and in mouthe 
and in berying, and in cheer, and in deede. Eek ther ben 
mo special reniedies agayns accidie, in dyvers werkis, and 
in consideracionn of the peyne of helle and of the joye of 
heven, and in the trust of the hyhe grace of the holy gost, 
that wil geve him might to parforme his good entent. 

De avaritia. 

After accidie I wil speke of avarice, and of coveytise ; 
of whiche synne saith seint Poule, that the roote of alle 
eveles and harmes is coveytise. For sothely whan the hert 
of man is confoundid in itself and tronblid, and that the 

28 acheven. Tiie llarl. Ms, rea«l3 to eschew, winch, appears to De coutraiy 
to the sense. 



THE PERSONES TALE, 647 



BOule hath lost the comfort of God, thanne seekith he an 
ydel solas of worldly thinges. Avarice, after the descrip- 
cioun of seint Austyn, is a likerousnes in hert to have erthely 
thinges. Some other folk sayn, that avarice is for to 
purchase many erthely thinges, and no thing geve to hem 
that han neede. And understonde, that avarice ne stont 
not oonly in lond ne in catel, but som tyme in science and 
ill glorie, and eny maner ^^ outrageous thinges is avarice. 
And the difference bytwixe avarice and coveytise is this : 
coveitise is for to coveyte suche thinges as thou hast not ; 
and avarice is to withholde and kepe suche thinges as thou 
hast, withoute rightful neede. Sothely, this avarice is a 
^^ynne that is 1 1 dampnable, for al holy writ curseth it, 
and spekith a^ayn that vice, for it doth wrong to Jhesu 
Crist ; for it bireveth him the love that men to him owen, 
and turnith it bakward agayns al resoun, and makith that 
the avarous man hath more hope in his catel than in 
Jhesu Crist, and doth more observaunce in keping of his 
tresour, than he doth i-n the service of Jhesu Crist. And 
therfore saith seint Poule, ad Ephes. that an averous man 
is in the thraldom of ydolatrie. 

What difference is ther bitwen an ydolaster and an ava- 
rous man, but that an ydolaster peradventure hadde but a 
mawment or tuo, and the avarous man hath manye ? for 
certes, every floreine in his coffre is his mawmet. And 
certes, the synne of mawmetrie is the firste thing that God 
defendith in the ten comaundementz, as berith witnes in 
Exod. cap. XX, Thou schalt have noone false goddes biforn 
me, ne thou schalt make to the no grave thing. Thus is he 
an averous man, that loveth his tresor toforn God, and an 
idolaster. Thurgh his cursed synne of avarice and coveyt- 
ise comen these harde lordschipes, thurgh whiche men ben 
destreyned by talliages, custumes, and cariages, more than 
here duete of resoun is ; and elles take thay of here bonde- 
men, amercimentes, whiche niighte more resonably ben 
callid extorciouns than mercymentis. Of whiche mersy- 
ments and raunsonyng of bondemen, some lordes styw- 
ardes seyn, that it is rightful, for as moclie as a cherl hath 
no temporel thing that it nys his lordes, as thay sayn. But 
certes, thise lordeshipes doon wrong, that bireven here 
bondemen thinges that thay never gave hem. Augustinus 
de Civitate Dei, libro ix. Soth is the condicioun of thral- 
dom, and the firste cause of thraldom is sinne. Genes, v. 

Thus may ye seen, that the gilt deserved thraldom, but 
not nature. Wherfore these lordes schulden nought to 
moche glorifie in here lordschipes, sith that by naturel con- 
'3 ejty maner, TyrwUitt reads in every manert 



548 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

dicionn thaj^ ben nought lordes of here tliralles, but for 
thraldom com first by the desert of synne. And forther- 
over, ther as the lawe sayth, that temporel goodes of 
T)ondefolk been the goodes of her lordes ; ye, that is to 
understonde, the goodes of the emperour, to defende hem in 
here right, but not to robbe hem ne to reve hem. And 
therfore seith Seneca, thi prudence schulde live benign ely 
with thi thrallis. Thilke that thay clepe thralles, ben 
Goddes poeple ; for humble folk ben Cristes frendes ; 
tliay ben contubernially with the Lord. Thenk eek as of 
such seed as cherles springen of such seed springe lordes ; as 
wel may the cherl be saved as the lord. The same deth 
that takith the cherl, such deth takith the lord. Wher- 
fore I rede, do right so with thi cherl as thou woldist thi 
lord dide with the, if thou were in his plyt. Every sinful 
man is a cherl as to synne. I rede the certes, thou lord, 
that thou werke in such a wise with thy cherles that thay 
rather love the than drede the. I wot wel, ther is degre 
above degre, as resoun is and skil, that men don her devoir 
ther as it is dewe ; but certes, extorciouns, and despit of 
oure undirlinges, is dampnable. 

And forthermore understonde wel, that conquerours or 
tyrauntes maken ful ofte thralles of hem that born ben of 
als r®yal blood as ben thay that hem conqueren. This 
name of thraldom ^^ was never erst couth til Noe sayde that 
his sone Chanaan schulde be thral of his bretheren for his 
synne. What say we thanne of hem that pylen and doon 
extorciouns to holy chirche ? Certis, the swerdes that men 
geven first to a knight whan he is newe dubbyd, signifieth 
faith, and that he schulde defende holy chirche, and not 
robbe it ne pyle it ; and who so doth is traitour to Crist. 
And as seith seint Austin, t 'lay ben the develes wolves, that 
stranglen the scheep of Jliesu Crist, and doon wors than 
wolves ; for sothely, whan the wulf hath ful his wombe, he 
stintith to strangle scheep ; but sothly, the pilours and 
the destroyers of the goodes of holy chirche ne doon nought 
so, for thai stinte never to i^ile. Now as I have sayd, sith 
so is, that synne was first cause of thraldom, thanne is it 
thus, that ilke tyme that al this world was in synne, thanne 
was al this world in thraldom, and in subjeccioun ; but 
certis, sith the tyme of grace com, God ordeyned that 
somme folk schulde be more heigh in estaate and in degre, 
and somme folkes more lowe, and that everich schulde be 
served in here estate and in degree. And therfore in somme 
contrees there thay ben thralles, whan thay han turned 
hem to the faith, thay make here thralles free out of thral- 
so thraldom. The Harl. Ms. reads cherldom. 



THE PERSONES TALE. 549 



dom. And therfor certis the lord oweth to his man, that 
the man owith to the lord. The pope caUith himself ser- 
vaunt of servaiints of Grod. But for as nioche as tliostaat 
of holy chirche ne might not have ben, ne the commune 
profit might nought have ben kepte, ne pees ne reste in 
erthe, but if God had ordeyned som man of heiher degre, 
and some men of lower, therfore was soveraignte ordeyned 
to kepe, and to mayntene, and defende her underlynges or 
her subjectis in resoun, as ferforth as it lith in her power, 
and not to destroye ne confounde hem. Wherfore I say, 
that thilke lordes that be like wolves, that devouren the 
])ossessioun or the catel of pore folk w^ongfuUj' withoute 
mercy or mesure, thay schul receyve by the same mesure 
that thay han mesured to jDOver folk the mercy of Jhesu 
Crist, but if it be amendid. Now cometh deceipt bitwixe 
marchaunt and marchaunt. And thou schaltunderstonde 
that marchaundise is in tuo^^ maneres, that oon is bodilv, 
and that other is gostly ; that oon is honest and leful, and 
that other is dishonest and unleful. Of thilke bodily mar- 
chaundise that is honest and leful is this, that ther as God 
hath ordeyned that a regne or a cuntre is suffisaunt to 
himself, thanne is it honest and leful that of the abun- 
daunce of tliis contre men helpe another cuntre that is more 
needy ; and therfore ther moote be marchauntz to bringe 
fro that oon cuntre to that other her merchaundise. That 
other marchaundise, that men hauntyn with fraude, and 
trecchcrie, and deceipt, with lesynges and fals othis, is 
cursed and dampnable. Espirituel marchaundize is prop- 
rely symonie, that is, ententyf desire to beye thing espirit- 
uel, that is, thing that apperteyneth to the seintuarie of 
God, and to the cure of the soule. This desire, if so be that 
a man do his diligence to parforme it, al be it that his de- 
sir take noon effect, yit is it to him a dedly synne ; and if 
he be ordrid, he is irreguler. Certis, symonye is cleped of 
Symon Magus, that wolde han bought for temporel catel 
the gifte that God had given by the holy gost to seint Petir 
and to thapostlis ; and therfore understonde, that bothe 
he that sellith and he that bieth thinges espiritueles ben 
cleped symonials, be it by catel, be it by procurement, or 
by fleisshly prayere of his frendes, either fieisshly frendes 
or spirituel frendes, fleisshly in tuo maneres, as by kynrede 
or other frendes. Sothely, if thay pray for him that is not 
worthy and able, if he take the benefice it is symonie ; and 
if he be worthy and able, it is non. That other maner is, 
whan man, or woman, prayen for folk to avauxice hem 

SI Uio. The Harl. Ms, reads in many manures, which seems hy the cour 
text to bo wroug, 



550 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



oonly for wikkid fleisshly aflfeccioun that thay have unto 
the persone, and that is ful synionye. But certis, in ser- 
vice, for whiche men given thinges espiritueis unto her ser- 
vauntes, it nioste ben understonde, that the service moste 
be honest, and elhs not, and eek that it be withoute bar- 
gaynyng, and that the persone be able. For, as saith seint 
Damase, alle the synnes of this world, at the reward of this 
synne, is a thing of nought, for it is the grettestesynne that 
may be after the synne of Lucifer and of Antecrist ; for by 
this synne (iod forlesith the chirche and the soule, that he 
bought with his precious blood, by hem that geven chirches 
to hem that ben not digne, for thay putten in theves, that 
stelen the soules of Jhesu Crist, and destroyen his patri- 
moygne. By suche undigne prestis and curates han lewed 
men lasse reverence of the sacrament of holy chirche ; and 
suche geveres of chirches putten out the children of Crist, 
and putten into the chirche the develes oughne sone ; 
thay sellen soules that lambes schulde kepe to the wolf that 
stranglith hem ; and therfore schal thay never have part 
of the pasture of lambes, that is, the blisse of heven. 

Now Cometh hasardrie with his appertenaunce, as ta- 
bles and rafles, of whiche cometh deceipt, fals othis, chid- 
ynges, and alle raveynes, blasphemyng, and reneying of 
God and hate of his neighebors, wast of goodes, mi spend- 
ing of tyme, and som tyme manslaughter. Certes, hasard- 
ours ne mowe not be withoute gret synne, whil thay 
haunte that craft. Of avarice cometh eek lesynges, 
thefte, and fals witnesse and fals othes. And ye schul un- 
dirstonde that these ben grete synnes, and expresce agains 
the comaundementz of God, as I have sayd. Fals witnesse 
is in word and eek in dede ; as for to bireve thin neighebor 
his good name by thy fals witnessinge, or bireve him his 
catel or his heritage by thy fals witnesse, whan thou for 
ire, or for meede, or for en vie, berest fals witnes, or accus- 
ist him, or excusist him by thy fals witnes, or ellis excusist 
thiself falsly. Ware vow, questemongers and notaries. 
Certis, for fals witnessynge was Susanna in ful gret sorwe 
and peyne, and many another mo. The synne of thefte is 
eek expresse agayns Goddes hestis, and that in tuo maners, 
corporel and spirituel ; corporel, as for to take thy neighe- 
I'ours catel agayns his wille, be it by force or by sleight ; 
be it by mette or by mesure ; by stelynge eek of fals en- 
ditements upon him ; and in borwyng of thin neghebores 
catelle in entent never to paye, and in semblable thinges. 
Kspirituel thefte is sacrilege, that is to sayn, hurtynge of 
Ik )ly thinges, or of thing sacred to Crist. Sacrilege is in 
t\io maneres ; that oon is by reasoun of holy place, as 



THE PERSONES TALE, 551 



chirches or chirchehawes ; for wliiche every vileins syn/ie 
that men doon in suche places may be clepid sacrilege, or 
every violence in semblable place ; that other iiianer is as 
tho that withdrawen falsly the rentes and rightes that 
longen to holy chirche ; and generally, sacrilege is to reve 
holy thing fro holy place, or unholy thing out of holy 
place, or holy thing out of unholy place. 

Remedium contra avarioiam. 

Now schul ye understonde that the relevynge of avarice 
is misericorde and pite largely taken. And men might 
axen, why that misericord and pite is relievyng of avarice ; 
cartes, the avaricious man schewith no pite ne misericorde to 
i\\e needeful man. For he deiitith him in the kepyng of his 
tresor, and nought in therescowing ne relievyng of liiseveu 
cristen. Aud therfore speke I fii*st of misericord. Thaniie 
is misericord, as saith the philosopher, a vertu, by whicli 
the corrage of a man is stired by the myseise of him that 
ib myseysed. Upon which misericorde folwith pite, iii 
parformyng of chariteable werkis of mercie, helping and 
comforting him that is misesed. And certes, these moeven 
men to tije misericord of Jhesu Crist, that gaf himself for 
oure gult, and suffred deth for misericord, and forgaf us 
oure original synne, and therby relessid us fro peyne of 
helle, and amenusid the peynes of jjurgatorie by penitence, 
and geveth grace wei to do, and at the laste the joye of 
heven, The spices of misericorde ben for to love, and for 
to give, and eek for to forgive and for to relesse, and for to 
have pite in herte, and compassioun of the meschief of his 
even cristen, and eek chastize ther as neede is. Another 
maner of remedye agayns avarice, is resonable largesse ; 
but sothely here bihovith the consideracioun of the grace 
of Jhesu Crist, and of the temporel goodes, and eek of the 
goodes perdurable that Crist gaf us, and eek to have re- 
membraunce of the deth that he schal resceyve, he noot 
not whanne ; and eke he schal forgon al that he hath, 
save oonly that he hath dispendid in goode werkes. 

But for als moche as some folk ben unresonable, men 
ouglite to eschiewe foly-largesse, the whiche men clepen 
wast. Certes, he that is fool-large, he giveth nought hie 
catel, but he leseth his catel. Sothely. what thing that he 
giveth for vaynglorie, as to mynstrals, and to folk for to 
bere his renoun in the world, he hath synne therof, and 
noon almes ; certes, he lesith foule his goodes, that sekitli 
with the gift of his good no thing but synne. He is like 
to an hors that sekith rather to drynke drovy watir, and 



552 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



trouble, than for to drinke watir of the welle that is 
cleer. And for as moche as thay give ther as thay schuld 
not give, to hem appendith thilke malisoun that Crist schal 
give at the day of doom to hem that gchal be dampned. 

De gula. 

After avarice cometh glotenye, which is expresse eke 
agayns the coniaundement of God. Glotenye is unre- 
sonable and desordeyned covey tise to ete and to drynke. 
Tliis synne corrui)tid al tliis world, as is wel schewed in tlie 
synne of Adam and of Eva. Loke eek what saith seint 
Poul of glotouns : many, saith lie, gon, of whiche I have 
ofte said to yow, and now I say it wepyng, that thay ben 
thenemyes of the cros of Crist, of whiche thende is deth, and 
of whiche here wombeishere God and here glorie; in con- 
fusioun of hem that so saveren erthely thinges. He that is 
usannt to this synne of glotonie, he ne may no synne with- 
stonde, he moste be in servage of alle vices, for it is the 
develes horde, ther he hideth him inne and resteth. This 
synne hath many spices. The firste is dronkenes, that is 
thorrible sepulture of mannes resoun ; and therefore whan 
man is dronken, he hath lost his resoun ; and this is dedly 
synne. B ut schortly, whan that a man is not wont to strong 
drinke, and peraventure ne knowith not the strengthe of 
the drynk, or hath feblesse in his heed, or hath travaylcd 
thurgh whiche he drynkith the more, and be sodeynly 
caught with drynke, it is no dedly synne, but venial. The 
secounde spice of glotenie is, whan the spirit of a man wex- 
ith al trouble for drunkenesse, and bireveth him his witte 
and his discressioun. The thridde spice of glotouns is, when 
a man devoureth his mete, and hath no rightful maner of 
etyng. The ferthe is, whan thurgh the grete abundaunci^ 
of his mete, the humours in his body been distemprid. 
The lifte is, forgetf nines by to moche drinking, for which a 
man somtyme forgetith by the morwe what he dide at eve, 
or on the night bifore. 

In other maner ben distinct the spices of glotonye, after 
seint Gregory. The firste is, for to ete or drynke byfore 
tyme to ete. The secound is, whan man giveth him to del- 
icate mete or drinke. The thridde is, whanne man takith 
to moche therof over mesure. The ferthe is, curiosite, with 
gret entent to make and apparayle his mete. The tifte is, 
for to ete to gredeiy. These ben the fyve fyngers of thQ 
devcicrf hand, by whiche he drawith folk to synne. 



THE PERSONES TALE. 553 



Remediiun contra gulam. 

Agayns glotonye the reinedie is abstinence, as saith Ga- 
lien ; but tliat hold I nought meritorie, if he do it oonly 
for the hele of his body. Seint Austyn wol that abstinence 
be don for vertu, and with pacience. Abstinence, he saith, 
is htil worth, but if a man have good wiUe therto, and but 
it be enforced by pacience and by charite, and that men 
doon it for Goddes sake, and in liope to have the bhsse of 
heven. The felawes of abstinence ben attemperaunce, that 
holdith the mene in alle thinges ; eek schame, that es- 
chiewith al dishoneste ; sufflsaunce, that seekelh noon 
riche metes ne drynkes, ne doth no force of to outrageous 
apparaillyng of mete ; mesure also, that restreynelh by re- 
son the dislave appetit of etyng ; sobernes also^ that re- 
streyneth the outrage of drinke ; sparing also, that re- 
sereyneth the delicat ese to sitte longe at mete, wherfore 
Bom folk stonden of here owne wille to ete, because they 
wol ete at lasse leysir. 

Be luxuria. 

After glotonye thanne cometh leccherie, for these two 
Bynnes ben so iieih cosyns, that ofte tyme thay wol not de- 
parte. Unde Pauhis ad Ephes., nolite inehriari vino in 
quo est luxuria, etc. God wot this synne is full displesaunt 
thing to God, for he saj'de himself, Do no leccherie. And 
therfore he putte gret peyne agayn this synne. For in tlie 
olde lawe, if a womman thral were take in this synne, sche 
scholde be beten with staves to the deth ; and if sche were 
a gentilwomman, sche schulde be slayn with stoons ; and 
if sche were a bisschoppis doughter, sche schulde be bient 
by Goddis comaundement. Fortherover, for the synne of 
leccherie God dreinte al the world at the diluvie, and after 
that he brent fyve citees with thonder layt, and sonk hem 
into helle. 

Now let us thanne speke of thilke stynkyng synne of 
leccherie, that men clepen advoutry, that is of wedclid folk, 
that is to sayn, if that oon of hem be weddid, or elles bothc. 
Seint Johan saith, that advouterers schuln be in helle in 
watir brennyng of fuyr and of. brimston , in fuyr for the 
leccherie, in brimston for the stynk of her ordure. Certis 
the brekyng of this sacrament is an horrible thing ; it was 
makid of God himself in Paradis, and confermed of Jhc-u 
(Jrist, as witnesseth seint Mathew ; a man sohall lete lador 
and mooder, and take him to his wif, and thay schul bea 
t.wo in oon fleisch. This sacrament bitokeneth the knyt- 



554 THE CANTJEIlBIfRT TALEFl, 



tyng togider of Crist and of holy chirche. And nat oonly 
that God forbad advotrie in dede, but eek he coniaundod, 
that thou scholdest not covey te thy neyhebors wif . In this 
heste, seith seint Austyn, is forboden al nianer covey tise to 
do leccherie. Lo what seith seint Mathew in the Gospel, 
that who so seth a worn man, to coveytise of his lust, he 
hath doon lecchery with hir in his herte. Here may ye se, 
that nought "oonly tlie dede of this synno is forboden, but 
eek the desir to do that synne. This cursed synne annoy- 
eth grevously heui that it haunten ; and first to here soule, 
for he obligith it to synne and to i)yne of the deth that is 
perdurable ; unto the body annoye'th it grevously also, for 
it dreyeth him and wastith hini, and schent him, and of 
his blood he makith sacrifice to the devel of helie ; it wast- 
ith eek his catel and his substaunce. And certes, if that it 
be a foul thing a man to waste his catel on wommen, yit is 
it a fouler thing, whan that for such ordure wommen dis- 
pende upon men here catel and here substaunce. This 
synne, as saitli the prophete, byi-eveth man and womman 
her good fame and al here honour, and it is ful pleas- 
aunt to the devel ; for therby wynneth he the moste pray 
of this world. And right as a marchaunt deliteth him 
most in chaifare tliat he hath most avauntage of, right so 
delitith the feend in this ordure. 

This is the other liond of the devel, vWth fyve fyngres, 
to cacche the poeple to his vilonye. The firste fynger is 
the fonle lokyng of the foule womman and of the foule man, 
that sleth right as a basiliskoc sletli folk by the venym of 
his sight ; for the coveytise of eyen folwith the coveytise of 
the herte. The secounde fynger is the vileynes touchinge 
in wikkid manere. And therfore saith Salomon, that who 
so touchith and handelith a womman, he farith lik him 
that handelith the scorpioun, that styngith and sodeinly 
sleetli thurgh his envenemynge ; or as who so touchith 
warm picche, it schent his fyngres. The thridde is foule 
wordes, that farith lik fuyr, that right anoon brenneth the 
herte. The ferthe is the kissyng ; and trewely he were a 
greet fool that wolde kisse the mouth of a brennyng oven 
or of a fornej'-s ; and more fooles ben thay that kyssen in 
vilonye, for that mouth is the mouth of helle ; and namely 
thise olde dotard fooles holours, yit wol thay kisse, and 
flikkere, and besien hemself , though thay may nought do.^^ 
Certis thay ben like to houndes ; for an hound whan he 
cometh to a roser, or by other bussches, though he may 

«« Tcisse . . . nonghf do. The Hail. Ms., supported by the Lansd. Ms., reads 
hissey though tha;/ may 7wuciht do and smafer hem. The reading in the text, 
which is that of Tyrwhitt, seems to xue better. 



THE PER S ONES TALE. 555 



nought pisse, yet wil he heve up his leg and make a coun" 
tenaunce to pisse. And for that many man weneth he 
may not synne for no Hcorousnes that he doth with his wif, 
certis tiiat oppinioun is fals ; God wot a man may sle him- 
self with his owne knyf, and make himself dronke of his 
oughne tonne. Certis, be it wif, or child, or eny worldly 
thing, that he lovyth biforn God, it is his maumet, and he 
is an ydolastre. Man schulde love his wyf ly diScrescioun, 
paciently and attemperelly, and thanne is sche as it were 
his suster. The fyfte fynger of the develes hond, is the 
stynkynge dede of leccherie. Certes the fj've fyngres of 
glotonye the devel put in the wombe of a man ; and his 
fyve fyngres of lecchery bygripeth him by the reynes, for to 
throwe him into the fourneys of helle, there as they schuhi 
have the fuyr and the wormes that ever sclial Listen, and 
wepyng and wayling, and scharp hunger and thurst. and 
grislines of develes, that schul al to-tere hem withoute re- 
spit and withouten ende. Of leccherie, as I sayde, sourdren 
divers spices : as fornicacioun, that is bitwen man and 
womman that ben nought niaried, and this is dedly synne, 
and against nature. Al that is enemy and destruccioun to 
nature, is agayns nature. Par fay the resoun of a man 
tellith him wel that it is dedly synne, for als moche as God 
forbad leccherie. And seint Poule gevith hem that regne 
that is due to no wight but hem that doon synne dedly. 
Another synne of lecchery is, for to bireve a mayden of hir 
maydenhode ; for he that so doth, certes he casteth a may- 
den out of the heighest degre that is in the present lif, and 
birevith hir thilke precious fruyt that the book clepith 
the hundrid fruyt, — I can geve it noon other name in Eng- 
lisch, but in Latyn it is i-clepid centesiimis fruetus {secun- 
dum Hieronymum contra Jovinianwn). Certes he that so 
doth, is cause of many harmes and vilenyes, mo than eny 
man can rekene ; right as he som tyme is caiise of alle the 
damages that bestis doon in the feeld, that brekith the 
liegge of the closure, thurgh which he destroyeth that may 
not be restored ; for certes no more may maydenhode be 
restored, that an arm, that issmyten fro the body, retourne 
agayn to waxe ; sche may have mercy, this wot I wel, if 
sche have wille to do penitence, but never schal it be but 
that sche nas corrupt. And al be it so that I have spoke 
somwhat of advoutre, yit is it good to speke of mo perils 
that longen to advoutre, for to eschiewe that foule synne. 
Advoutrie, in Latyn, is for to sayn, approaching of other 
ruannes bed, thorugh the which tho that whilom were oon 
fleisch, abandone here bodyes to other persones. Of this 
Byune, as saitli the wise man, many harmes cometh there- 



556 TBE CANTERBURY TALES. 



and certes faith is the keye of 
cristeiidom, and whan that faith is brok?^ and iorn, 
sotholy cristendom is lorn, and stont veyn and withouten 
fruyt. This synne is eek a theef, for theftf is generally to 
speke to reve a wight his thing agayns his wille. Certis, 
this is the foulest thefte that may be, whan a worn man 
Stelith hir body from hire housbonde, and giveth it to hire 
holour to defoule hire, and stelith hir soule fro Crist, and 
gevith it to the devel. This is a fouler thefte than for to 
breke a chirche and stele chalises, for these advouterers 
breke the temple of God spirituelly, and stelen the vessel of 
grace, that is the body and the soule ; for which Jhesu 
Crist schal destroyen hem, as saith seint Poule. Sothely 
of this thefte doubtyd gretly Joseph, whan that his lordes 
wyf prayde him of vilonye, whan he saide, " Lo, my lady, 
how my lord hath take to me under my warde al that he 
hath in this world, ne no thing of his power is oute of Uiy 
power, but oonly ye that ben his wyf ; and how schuld 1 
do thanne this wikkidnes, and synne so horribly agayns 
Ged, and my Lord? God it forbede ! " Alas I al to litel 
is such trouthe now i-founde. The thridde harm is the 
filthe, thurgh which thay breken the comaundement r.f 
God, and defoule the auctour of here matrimonye, that is 
Crist. For certis, in so moche as the sacrament ci mariage 
is so noble and so digne, so moche is it the gretter synne 
for to breke it ; for God makid mariage in Paradis :n 
thestat of innocence, to multiplie mankynde to the service 
of God, and therfore is the brekyng therof the more grev- 
ous, of which breking cometh fals heires ofte tymes, that 
wrongfully occupien mennes heritage ; and therfore wolde 
Crist putte hem out of the regne of heven, that is heritage 
to goode folk. Of this breking cometh eek ofte tyme, thdt 
folk unwar wedden or synnen with her kynrede ; and 
namely these harlottis, that haunten bordels of thesa fouie 
wommen, that mowe be likened to a comunegoiige, where- 
as men purgen her entrayles of her ordure. \Vii;it s ly we 
eke of putours, that lyven by the orrible synne of putrie, 
and constreyne wymmen, ye, som tyme his ougline wyf or 
his child, as don these baudes, toyelde hem a certeyn rente 
of here bodily putrie ? certes, these ben cursede synnes. 
Understonde eek that avoutrie is set gladly in the ten com- 
aundements bitwixe manslaughter and thefte, for it is the 
grettest thefte that may be, for it is thefte of body anil 
Boule, and it is hk to homicidie, for it kerveth a-tuo hem 
that first were makid oon tleisch. And therfore by the olde 
lawe of God thay scholde be slayn, but nathtles, by the 
lawe of Jhesu Crist, that is th^ law-i < f pitn, whan ha sayde 



THE PERS0NJS3 TALE. 557 



lo the womman that was founde in advoutri, and schulde 
ii.ave ben slayn with stoones aftir the wille of th(^ J^wes, 
as was her law, " Gro," quod Jhesu Crist, " and wihie no 
more to do synne ; "' sotliely, the vengeance of avouteryeis 
awardid to the peyne of helle, but if he he destourbed by 
penitence. Yit ben ther mo spices of this cursed synne, as 
whan that oon of hem is rehgious, or eUis bothe, or for folk 
that ben entred into ordre, as sub-dekin, or dekin, or prest, 
or hospitalers ; and ever the higher that he be in ordre, 
the gretter is the synne. The thinges that gretly aggreg- 
gith her synne, is the brekyng of here avow of chastite, 
whan thay resceyved the ordre ; and fortherover is soth, 
that holy ordre is chefe of alle the tresor of God, and is a 
special signe and mark of chastite, to schewe that thay ben 
ioyned to chastite, which that is the moste precious lif that 
is. And eek these ordred folk ben specially tytled to God, 
and of the special meyne of God ; of whiche whan thay 
don dedly synne, thay ben the special traytoursof God and 
of his poeple, for thay lyven of the poeple to praye for the 
people, and whil thay ben suche traytours here prayer 
avayleth not to the poeple. Prestis ben aungels, as by the 
dignite of here misterie ; but for soth seint Poul saith, that 
Sathanas transformeth him in an aungel of light. Sothely, 
the prest that hauntith dedly synne, he miiy be likened to 
the aungel of derknes, transformed into the aungel of light ; 
and he semeth aungel of light, but for sothe he is aungil of 
derknes. Suche prestes ben the sones of llelie, as schewith in 
the book of Kinges, that thay were the sones of Belial, that 
is, the devel. Belial is to say, withoute juge, and so faren 
thay ; thay thynke hem fre, and han no juge, no more 
than hath a fre bole, that takith which cow that him liketh 
in the toun. So faren thay by wommen ; for right as a fre 
bol3 is y-nough for al a toun, right so is a wikked prest 
corrupcioun y-nough for al a parisch, or for al a contray. 
These prestes, as saith the book, ne conne not ministere 
the mistery of presthode to the poeple, ne God ne knowe 
thay not ; thay holde hem nought apayed, as saith the 
book, of soden fleissh that was to hem offred, but thay 
tooke by force the fleissch that is raw. Certes, so these 
schrewes holde hem not appayed with rosted fleissh and 
sode fleissh, with whiche the poeple feeden hem in 
gret rev^erence, but thay wil have raw fleisch of folkes 
wyves and here doughti-es. And certes, these wommen 
that consenten to here harlotrie, don gret wrong to Crist 
and to holy chirche, and to alle halwes, and to alle soules, 
for thay bireven alle these hem that schulde worsehipe 
Crist and holy chirche and praye for cristen soules. And 



f^'^B THE CANTERBURY TALF&. 



therfore han suclie prestis, and here lenimans eeke that con- 
senten to here leccherie, the mahsoun of al the court cris- 
tian, til thay come to amendement. The thridde spice of 
advoutry is som tyme bitwix a man and his wif , and that 
is, whan thay take noon reward in her assembhng; but 
only to the fleischly delit, as seith seint Jerom, and ne 
rekke of no thing but that thay be assemblid by cause that 
they ben maried ; al is good y-nough as thiiikith hem. 
Butin suche folk hath thedevel power, assaith the aungel 
Raphael to Thoby, for in here assemblyng, thay putten 
Jhesu Crist out of her herte, and given hemself to alia 
ordure. The ferthe spice is the assemble of hem that ben 
of here kynrede, or of hem that ben of oon affinite. 
or elles with hem with whiclie here fadres or here kyn- 
rede han deled in the synne of leccherie ; this synne 
makith hem like houndes, that taken noon heede of 
kynrede. And certes, parenteal is in tuo maneres, eyther 
gostly or fieisshly. Gostly, as for to dele with her gossib ; 
for right so as he that engendrith a child, is his fieisshly 
fader, right so is his godfader his fader espirituel ; for 
which a womuian may in no laasse synne assemble with 
hir gossib, than with hireoughnefleischly fader or brother. 
The fifte spice is thilke abhominable synne, of which that 
no man unnethe oughte to speke ne write, natheles it ie 
openly rehersed in holy wryt. But though that holy writ 
speke of horrible synne, certes holy writ may not be de- 
fouled, no more than the sonne that schyneth on a donge- 
hul.^ Anothersynneappertenethtolecchery, that comett. 
in sleping, and this synne cometh ofte to hem that ben 
maydenes, and eek to hem that ben corrupte ; and this 
synne men clepen pollucioun, that cometh in foure maners ; 
som tyme it cometh of languisschynge of the body, for the 
humours ben to ranke and to abundaunt in the body of 
man ; som tyme of infirmite, for feblenesse of the vertu re- 
tentyf, as phisik maketh mencioun ; and som tyme for 
surfete of mete and drynke ; som tyme of vileins thoughtes 
that ben enclosed in mannes mynde whan he gothe to 
slepe, which may not be withouten synne ; for which man 
must kepe him wisely, or elles may men synne grevously. 

Remedium contra luxuriam. 

Now cometh the remedye agens lecchery, and that is 
generally chastite of wikkedhed'^ and continence that 
restreyneth alle the disordeigne moevynges that comen 

38 adangehul. The Lansd. ids. reads wi a mexen, aud Tyrwhitt on the 

T^yxene. 



THE PERSONES TALE. 559 



of fleischly talentes ; and ever the gretter meryt schal be 
han that raost restreyneth eschaufynges of ordure of this 
syrine ; and this is in tuo maneres ; that is to sayn, 
chastite of mariage, and chastite of vvidewhede. Now 
schalt thou understonde, that niatrimoigne is leful assem- 
blynge of man and wouiinan, that resceyven by virtu of 
this sacrement the bond thurgh which thay may not be 
departid in al here hf, that is to say, while thay lyven 
bothe. This, as saith the boke, is a ful gret sacrement ; 
God makid it (as I have said) in Paradis, and wolde him- 
self be born in mariage ; and for to halwen mariage he was 
at the weddyng wheras he turnede watir into wyn, which 
was the firste miracle that he wrought in erthe biforn his 
disciples. The trewe effect of mariage clensith fornicacioun, 
and replenischith holy chirche of good lynage, for that is 
the ende of mariage, and it chaungith dedly synne into 
venyal synne bituixe hem that ben Meddid, and njaketh 
the hertes al one, as wel as the bodyes. This is verray 
mariage that was first blessed by Goc\, er that the synne 
bigan, v/lian naturel lawe was in his right poynt in Para- 
dis ; and it was ordeyned, that, oon man schulde have but 
oon womman, and oon womman but oon man, as saith seint 
Augustyn, by many resouns. First, for mariage is figured 
bitwixe Crist and holy chirche ; another is, for a man is 
heed of a womman (algatebj^ ordinaunce it schulde be so) ; 
for if a womman had mo men than oon, than schulde sche 
have mo hedes than oon, and that were an horrible thing 
biforn God ; and eek a womman myghte nought please 
many folk al at oones ; and also ther ne schulde never be 
pees and rest among hem, for everich wolde aske his 
oughue tiling. And fortherover, no man schulde knowe 
his oughne engendrure, ne who schulde have his heritage, 
and the womman scholde be the lasse loved fro the tyme 
that sche were joyned to many men. 

Now Cometh how that a man schulde bere him with his 
wif, and namely in tuo thinges, that is to SQ,yn, in sulier- 
aunce and in reverence, and that schewed Crist when he 
made firste womman. For he ne made hire not of the heed 
of Adam, for sche schulde not to gret lordschipe have ; for 
ther as the womman hath the maistry, sche makith to 
moche disaray ; ther nedith noon ensample of this, the ex- 
perience that we have day by day oughte suffice. Also 
certes, God ne made nought womman of the foot of Adam, 
for sclie ne scholde nought be holden to lowe, for sche can 
not paciently suffre. But God made womman of the ribbe 
of Adam, for womman schulde be felawe unto man. Man 
schulde bere him to liis wif in faiths m trouthe, and in love i 



560 THE CANTERBUUY TALES. 



as saith seint Poule, that a man schulde love his wif, as 
Crist loved hoh^ chirche, that loved it so wel that he deyed 
for it ; so schulde a man for his wyf, if it were neede. 

Now how that a womman schulde be subject to hir 
housbonde, that tellith seint Peter, iij*' c^ ; first in obedi- 
ence. And eek, as saith the decre, a womman that is a wif, 
as longe as sche is a wif, sche hath noon auctorite to swere 
ne to bere witnesse, without leve of hir housbonde, that is 
hir lord ; algate he schulde be so by resoun. Sche schulde 
eek serve him in-al honeste, and ben attempre of hir array. 
I wot wel that thay schulde sette here entent to please her 
housebondos, but nought by here queyntise of array. Seint 
Jerom saith, thai wyves that ben arrayed in silk aud in 
purpre, ne mowe nought clothe hem in Jhesu Crist. Loke 
what saith saint Johan eek in the same matier. Seint 
Gregori saith eek, that no wight sekith precious clothing 
ne array, but oonly for veynglorie to ben honoured the 
more biforn the poeple. It is a gret folly, a womman to 
have fair array out-ward, and hirsilf to ben foul in-ward, 
A wyf schulde eek be mesurable in lokyng, and in beryng, 
and in laugheing, and discrete in alle hir wordes and his 
dedes, and above alle worldly thinges sche schulde love hir 
housebonde with al hire herte, and to him to be trewe of 
hir body ; so scholde an housebonde eeke ben trewe to hir 
wif ; for sith that al the body is the housebondes, so schulde 
here herte ben, or elles there is bitwixe hemtuo, as in that, 
no parfyt mariage. Thanne schal men understonde, that 
for thre thinges a man and his wyf mowe fleischly assemble. 
The firste is, in entent of engendrure of children, to the ser- 
vice of God, for certis that is the cause fynal of matrimoyne. 
The secounde cause is, to yelden ev^erych of hem his dette 
unto other of his body ; for neyther of hem hath power of 
his oughne body. The thridde is, for to eschiewe leccherie 
and vilenye. The fertile for sothe is dedly synne. As to 
the firste, it is meritory , the secounde also, for, as saith the 
decre, that sche hath "merit of -chastite, that yeldith to hir 
housebonde the dette of hir body, ye though it be agayu 
hir likyng and the lust of hir hiert. The thridde maner is 
venial synn^ ; and trewly, scarsly may eny of these be 
withoute venial synne, for the corrupcioun and for the 
delit. The ferthe maner is for to understonde, as if thay 
assemble oonly for amorous love, and for noon of the for- 
sayde causes, but for to accomplise thilke brennynge delyt, 
thay rekke never how ofte, sothely it is dedly synne ; and 
yit, with sorwe, some folk wole more peyne hem for to 
doon, than to her appetit suffiseth. 

The secounde maner of chastite is to ben a clene widewe, 



THE PEES0NE5 TALE. 561 



and to eschiewe the embrasyng:es of men, and desiren the 
embrasynges of Jhesu Crist. These ben tho that lian ben 
wy ves, and han forgon here housebondes, and eek woinmen 
that han doon leccherie, and be relieved by penitence. 
And certis, if that a wyf couthe kepe hir al chast, by h- 
cence of hir housebonde, so that sche geve non occasioun 
that he agilt, it were to hir a gret merit. Thise nianer 
wymmen, that observen chastite, moste be clene in herte 
as wel as in body, and in thought, and mesurabie in cloth- 
ing and in countenaunce, abstinent in etyngand drynkyng, 
in speche and in dede, and thanne is sche the vessel or the 
boyst of the blessed Magdaleyne, that fulfillith holy chirche 
ful of good odour. The thridde maner of chastite is vir- 
ginite, and it bihoveth that sche be holy in herte. and clene 
of body, and thanne is sche spouse of Jhesu Crist, and sche 
is the lif of aungels ; sche is the preysyng of this world, and 
sche is as these martires in egalite ; sche hath in hir that 
tongue may nought telle. Virginite bar oure Lord Jhesu 
Crist, and virgine was himselve. 

Another remedy agayns leccherie is specially to Avith- 
drawe suche thinges as given occasioun to thilk vilonye ; 
as in ease, and etyng, and drynkyng ; for certes, whan th^ 
pot boylith strongely, the beste remedye is to withdrawe 
the f uyr. Sleping eek longe in greet quiete is also a greet 
norice unto leccherie. 

Another remedye agayns leccherie is, that a man or a 
Avomman eschiewe the companye of hem by whiche he 
doutith to be tempted ; for al be it so that the dede be 
"withstonde, yit is ther gret temptacioun. Sothely a whit 
wal, although it brenne not fully by stikyng of a candel, 
yet is the wal blak of the leyte. Ful ofte tyme I rede, that 
no man trusts in his oughne perfeccioun, but he bestrenger 
than Sampson, or holiere than Davyd, or wiser than 
Salomon. 

Now after that I have declared yow the seven dedly 
synnes as I can, and some of here braunches, and here rem- 
edyes, sothely, if I couthe, I wolde telle yow the ten com- 
aundementes, but so heigh a doctrine I leve to divines. 
But natheles, I hope to God thay ben touchid in this litel 
tretys everich of hem alle. 

Now for as mocheas the secounde part of penitence stant 
in confessioun of mouth, as I bigan in the first chapitre, I 
say, seint Austyn saith, synne is every word and every 
dede, and al that men coveyten agaya the lawe of Jhesu 
Crist ; and this is for to synne, in herto, in mouthe, and in 
dede, by thy fyve wittis, that ben sight, heeryng, smellyng, 
taetyng, or savoryng, of felyng. Now it is good to under* 



stonden the circumstaunces that aggreggren moche to every 
syrine. Thou schalt considre what thou art that dost the 
synne, whethir that thou be nial or femal, old other yong, 
gentil or thral, fre or servaunt, hool or seek, weddid or 
sengle, ordrid or unordred, wys or fool, clerk or seculer ; if 
sche be of thy kyn, bodily or gostly, or noon ; if eny of thy 
kynrede have synned with hire or noon, and many nio 
thinges. 

That other circumstaunce is, whether it be don in for- 
nicacioun or in advoutry, or incest or noon, or mayden or 
noon, in maner of homicide or non^ horrible grete synne or 
smale, and how long thou hast continued in synne. T)^e 
thridde circumstaunce is the place wher thou hast don 
synne, whether in other mennes houses, or in chirehehawp, 
in chirche dedicate, or noon. For if the chirche were bai- 
owed, and man or womman spillid his kynde within that 
place, by way of synne or by'wykked temptacioun, it is 
enterdited til it be reconsiled by the bischop ; and the prest 
scholde be enterdyted that dede such a vilonye to terme of 
ai his lyf, and scholde no more synge no masse ; and if he 
dede, he schulde do dedly synne, at every tyme that he 
song masse. The ferthe circumstaunce is, by which medi- 
atours, as by messagers, or for entysement, or for consente- 
ment, to here companye with felawship ; for many a 
wrecche, for to here companye, wol go to the devel of helle. 
For thay that eggyn or consentyn to the synne, ben par- 
teneres of the synne, and of the dampnacioun of the syn- 
nere. The fyfte circumstaunce is, how many tymes that 
he hath synned, if it be in his mynde, and how ofte he hath 
falle. For he that ofte fallith in synne, despiseth the mercy 
of God, and encresceth his synne, and is unkynde to Crist, 
and he waxith the more feble to withstonde synne, and 
synneth the more lightly, and the latter arrisith, and is the 
iiiore eschiew^^ to schrive him, and namely to him that 
hath ben his confessour. For whiche that folk, whan thay 
faile agayn to here olde folies, eyther they forletin her con- 
fessours al utterly, or elhs thay departen here schrifte in 
divers places ; but sothely such departed schrifte hath no 
mercy of God of his synnes. The sixte circumstaunce is, 
why that a man synneth, as by which temptacioun ; and 
if himself procure thilke temptacioun, or by excityng of 
other folk ; or if he synne with a womman maugre hir 
heed hath ben enforced or noon, this schal sche telle, and 
whether it were for coveytise or for poverte, and if it was 
hire procuryng or noon, and alle such maner barneys. 

84 eschiewe. Tyrwhitt reads the more slow* 



TEE PER SOKES TALJ2. 663 



The seventhe circumstaunce is, in what iiianer he hath don 
his synne, or how that sche hath snlTred that folk han doon 
to liire. The same schal the man telle pleyiily, with alle 
the circumstaunces, and whether he have synned witti 
commune bordeal womman or noon, or doon his synne in 
holy tyme or noon, in fastyng tyme or noon, or biforn his 
schrifte, or after his latter schrifte, and hath peradventure 
broken therby his penaunce enjoyned therfor, by whos 
help or by whos counseil, b y sorcery oi by other crafte, al 
moste be told. Alle these thinges, after thay be grete or 
smale, engreggen the consciens of a man. And eek the 
prest that is the jugge, may the better ben avysed oX his 
jugement in givyngof thy penaunce, and that is after thy 
contricioun. For understonde wel, that after the tyme that 
a man hath defouled his baptisme by synne, if he wol come 
to savacioun, ther is noon other wey but penitence, and 
schrifte of mouthe, and by satisfaccioun ; and namely by 
tho tuo, if ther be a confessour to which he may schryve 
him, and the thridde if he have lif to parforme it. 

Thanne schal men loke it and considre, that if he wol 
make a trewe and a profitable confessioun, ther moste be 
foure condiciouns. First, it moste ben in sorweful bitter- 
nesse of herte, as sayde the king Ezechiel to Grod, I wol re- 
membre me alle the yeres of my lif in bitternes of myn 
hert. This condicioun of bitternes hath fyve signes ; the 
first is, that confessioun moste be schamefast, not for to 
covere ne hyde his synne, but for he hath agultid his God 
and defoulid his soule. And herof saith seint Augustyn, 
the herte tremblith for schame of his synne, and for he 
hath gret schamefastnes he is digne to have gret mercy of 
God. Such was the confessioun of the publican, that 
wolde nought heve up his eyghen to heven, for he had of- 
fendid God of heven ; for which schamefastnes he had anon 
the mercy of God. And therfore seith seint Augustyn, that 
such schamefast folk ben next forgevenes of remissioun. 
The secounde signe is humilite of confessioun ; of which 
saith seint Petre, humblith yow under the might of God ; 
tie bond of God is myghty in confessioun, for therby God 
forgiveth the thy synnes, for he alone hath the power. 
And this humilite schal ben in herte, and in Figne outward ; 
for right as he hath humilite to God in his herte, right so 
schulde he humble his body out-ward to the prest, thatsit- 
tith in Goddes place. For which in no manere, sith that 
Crist is soverayn, and the prest is his mene and mediatour 
betwix Crist and the synner, and the synner is the lasse as 
by way of resoun, thanne schulde nought the coiifessour 
bitte as lowe as the synnere, but the synnere schulde knele 



664 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



biforn him or at his feet, but if maladye distourbid it ; for 
he schal take no keep who sittith there, but in whos place 
that lie sittith. A man that hath trespassed to a lord, and 
Cometh for to axe him of mercy and to maken his accord, 
and settith him doun anoon by the lord, men wolde holde 
him outrageous, and not worthy so soone for to have mercy 
ne r'emissioun. The thridde signe is, that thy schrifte 
schulde be ful of teeris, if men may wepe ; and if he may 
not wepe with his bodily eyen, let him wepe with his herte. 
Such was the confessiouu of seint Petre ; for after that he 
hadde forsake Jhesu Crist, he wente out and wepte ful bit- 
terly. The fertile signe is, that he lette nought for schame 
to schryve him and to schewn his confessioun. Such was 
the confessioun of Magdaleyn, that spared for no schame 
of hem that were at the feste to go to oure Lord Jhesu Crist 
and byknowe to him hire synne. The fifte signe is, that a 
man or a womman be obeisaunt to resceyve the i^enaunce 
that him is enjoyned. For certis Jhesu Crist for the gultes 
of oon man was obedient to his deth. 

The other condicioun of verray confessioun is, that it 
hastily be doon ; for cartes, if a man had a dedly wounde, 
ever the lenger that he taried to warisch himself, the more 
wolde it corrupte and haste him to his deth, and eek the 
wounde wolde be the worse to hele. And right so fareth 
synne, that long tyme is in a man unschewed. Certes a 
man ougiite soone schewe his synne for many causes ; as 
for drede of deth, that cometh sodeinly, and not certeyn 
what tyme it schal come, or ben in what place ; and eek 
the drecchyng of oon synne draweth another ; and eek the 
lenger he tarieth, the f'erther is he from Crist. And if he 
abyde unto his laste day, skarsly may he schrive him or 
remembre him of his synnes, or repente for the grevous 
malady of his deth. And for as moche as he hath not in 
his lif herkened Jhesu Crist, whan he hath spoken, he 
schal crien to Jhesu Crist at his laste day, and scarsly wol 
he herken him. And understonde that this condicioun 
moste have foure thinges. First that thy schrifte moste 
ben purveyed byforn, and avysed, for wikked haste doth 
no profyt ; and that a man can schryve him of his synnes. 
be it of pride or of envye, and so forth alle the spices and 
the circumstaunces ; and that he have comprehendid in 
his mynde the nombre and the gretnes of his synne, and 
how longe he hath lyen in synne ; and eek that he be con- 
trit of his sinnes, and in stedefast purpos (by the grace of 
God) never eft to falle in synne ; and eek that he drede 
and countrewayte himself, and that he flee the occasiouns 
of synne, to whiche he is enclyned. Also that thou schalt 



TEE PERSONES TALE. 565 



echrive the of alle thin synnes to con man, and nat a par- 
cel to oon man, and a parcel to another man ; that is, 
iinderstonde, in entent to parte thy confessioun as for 
schame or drede, for it nys but strangelyng of thy soule. 
For certes, Jhesu Crist is enterely al good, in him is noon 
imperfeccioun, and therforeouther he forgiveth al parfitely, 
or elies never a del. I say nought, if tliou be assigned to 
thy peniteneere for certein synne, that thou art bounde to 
schewe him al the remenaunt of thy synnes, of whiche 
thou hast ben schry ven of thy curate, but if it like the of 
thin humilite ; this is no departyng of schrifte. Ne I ne 
say not, there as I speke of divisioun of confessioun, that 
if thou have licence to schryve the to a discret and to an 
honest prest, wher the hkith, and eek by the licence of 
thy curate, that thou ne niaist wel schrive the to him of 
alle thyn synnes ; but let no synne be byhinde untold as 
fer as thou hast remembraunce. And Avhan thou schalt 
be schrive of thi curate, telle him eeke al thy synne that 
thou hast doon sith thou were last i-schry vne. This is no 
wikkid entent of divisioun of schrifte. 

Also thy verrey schrifte askith certeyn condiciouns- 
First, that thou schrive the by thy fre wiile, nought con- 
streyned, ne for schame of folk, ne for maladye, or such 
thing ; for it is resoun, that he that trespassith with his 
fre wille, that by his fre wille he confesse his trespas ; and 
that noon other man schal telle his synne but himself ; ne 
he schal not nayte or denye his synne, ne wraththe him 
with the prest for his amonestynge to lete synne. The 
secounde condicioun is, that thy schrifte be laweful, that 
is to sayn, that thou that schrivest the, and eek the prest 
that herirh thy confessioun, ben verrayly in the feith of 
holy chirche, and that a man be nought despaired of the 
mercy of Jhesu Crist, as Caym or Judas. And eek a man 
moot accuse himself of his owne tresj)as and not another ; 
but he schal blame and wire himself of his oughne malice 
of his synne, and noon other. But natheless, if that an- 
other man be occasioun or ellis enticer of his synne, or that 
the estate of a persone be such thurgh which his synne 
aggreggith, or elles that he may not playnly schry ve him 
but he telle the person with which he hath synned, thanne 
may he telle it, so that his entent be nought to bakbyte 
the persone, but oonly to declare his confessioun. 

Thow schalt nought eke make no lesyng in thy confes- 
sioun for humilite, peradventure to sayn that thou hast 
don synnes of whiche thou were never gulty ; as seint 
Augustyn saith, if thou bycause of humilite makest les- 
ynges on thiself, though thou were not in synne biforn, yit 



566 TUE CANTERBURY TALES. 



art thou thanne in synne thurgh tliy lesynges. Thou 
most also schewe thy synne by thyn oughne proper mouth, 
but thou woxe dombe, and not by no lettre ; for thou that 
hast don the synne, thou schalt have the schame of the 
confessioun. Thou schalt nought peynte thy confessioun, 
by faire subtil wordes, to cover the more thy synne ; for 
thanne bigilist thou thiself, and not the prest ; thou most 
telle it platly, be it never so foul ne so horrible. Thou 
schalt eek schrive th. to a prest that is discrete to coun- 
saile the ; and thou schalt nought scliiyve the for veine- 
glorie, ne for ypocrisie, ne»for no cause but oonly for the 
doute of Jhesu Crist and the hele of thy soul. Tliou schalt 
not cek renne to the prest sodeinly, to telle liim lightly 
thy synne, as who tellith a tale or a jape, but avysily and 
with gret devocioun ; and generally schrive the ofte ; if 
thou ofte falle, ofte thou arise by confessioun. And 
though thou schryve the ofter than oones of synne of 
which thou hast ben schriven, it is the more merite ; and, 
as saith saint Augustyn, thou schalt have tlie more lightly 
relessyng and grace of God, bothe of synne and of payne. 
And certes oones a yer atte lest way it is laweful to be 
houselyd, for sothely oones a yer alle thinges in the erthe 
renovelen. 

De tertia parte penitentice. 

Now have I told of verray confessioun, that is the sec- 
ounde partye of penitence. The thridde partye of pen- 
itence is satisfaccioun, and that stondith generally in 
almesdede and bodily peyne. Now ben ther thre ii;aner 
of almesdede ; contricioun of herte, where a man ofieretli 
himself to God ; the secounde is, to have pite of the de- 
faute of his neighebor ; the thridde is, in geving of good 
counseil and comfort, gostly and bodily, where men han 
neede, and namely in sustenaunce of mennes foode. And 
take keep that a man hath neede of these thinges gener- 
ally, he hath neede of foode, of clothing, and of herberwe, 
he hath neede of charitable counseil and visityiig in prison 
and malady, and sepulture of his dede body. And if thou 
may not visite the needeful with thy persone, visite by thy 
message and by thy giftes. These ben general almesses or 
werkes of charite, of hem that han temporal riches or dis- 
crecioun in counselynge. Of these werkes schalt thou 
liieren at the day of doom. 

This almes schalt thou doon of thin oughne propur 
thinges, and hastily, and prively if thou maist ; but nathe- 
les, if thou maist not do it prively, thou schalt nou^lit 



THE PERSONES TALE, 567 



forbere to do almes, though men se it, so that it be nought 
don for thank of the world, but oonly for thonk of Jhesu 
Crist. For, as witnessith seint Mathewe, c'* vto, a cite ujay 
not ben hid that is set on a niountayn, ne men hght not a 
hmtei lie and put it under a buisscliel, but men sette it on 
a candel-stikl^e, to hghte tiie men in tlie hous ; right so 
sclial youre hght hghten biforn men, that tliey may se 
youie good^ werkes, and gloritien youre Fader that is id 
heven, 

jN^ow as to speke of bodily peyne, it is in prayere, in 
wakiiiges, in fastynges, in vertuous techinges. Of orisouns 
ye schul understonde, that orisouns or prayeres, is for to 
seyn, a pitous wil of herte, that redressith it in God, and 
expresbith it by word out-ward, to remeve harmes, and to 
have thinges esjHrituel and durable, and som tyme tem- 
pore! thinges. Of whiche orisouns, certes in the orisoun 
of the Pater-noster hath oure Lord Jhesu Crist enclosec^ 
most thinges. Certis it is privileged of thre thinges in his 
dignito, for whiche it is more digne than any other prayer; 
for Jhesu Crist himself maked it ; and it is scliort, for it 
schulde be coud the more lightly, and for to withholde it 
the more esily in herte, and helpe himselfe the oftere with 
this orisoan, and for a man schulde be the lasse wery to 
say it, and for a man may not excuse him to lerne it, it is 
so schort and so easy ; and for it comprehendith in itself 
alle goode prayeres. The exposicioun of this holy praier, 
that is so excellent and so digne, I bitake to these maystres 
of theology, save thus moche wol I sayn, whan thou pray- 
est that God schulde forgive the thy gultes as thou for 
gi vest hem that they gulten to the, be ful wel ware that 
thou be not out of charite. This holy orisoun amenisith 
eek venial synne, and therfore it appendith specially to 
penitence. 

This praier moste be trewely sayd, and in verray faith, 
and that men pray to God ordinatly, discretly, and de- 
voutly ; and alway a man schulde putte his wille to be 
subject to the wille of God. This orisoun moste eek be 
sayd with greet humblesse and ful pure, and honestly, and 
nougiit to the annoyaunce of eny man or womman. It 
most eek be continued with the werkis of charite. It 
avaylith agayns the vices of the soule ; for, as seith seint 
Jerom, by fastyng ben saved the vices of fleissch, and by 
prayere the vices of the soule. 

After this thou schalt understonde, that bodily payne 
stant in wakyng. For Jhesu Crist saith, wakith and 
prayeth, that ye ne entre not into temptacioun. Ye schul 
understonde also, that fastynge stont in thre thinges, in 



forbering of bodily mete and drink, and in forberyng of 
worldly jolite, and in forbering of worldly synne ; this is 
to sayn, that a man schal kepe him fro dedly synne in al 
that he may. 

And thou schalt understonde eek, that God ordeyned 
fastyng, and to fastyng appurteynen foure thinges : 
largesce to jjover folk ; gladnes of hert espirituel ; not to 
ben angry ne annoyed ne grucche for he fastith ; and also 
resonable hour for to ete by mesure, that is to sayn, a man 
schulde not ete in untyme, ne sitte the lenger at his mele, 
for he fastith. 

Thanne schal thou understonde, that bodily peyne 
stant in discipline, or teching, by word, or by writing, or 
by ensample. Also in weryng of heires or of stamyn or of 
haberjeons on her naked fleisch for Cristes sake, and suche 
maner penaunce ; but ware the wel that such maner pe- 
naunce of thyn fleissch make nought thin herte bitter or 
angry, or anoyed of thiself ; for better is to cast away thin 
hayre than for to caste away the swetnes of oure Lord 
Jhesu Crist. And therfore seith seint Poule, clothe yow, 
as thay that ben chosen of God in herte, of misericorde, 
debonairete, sufferaunce, and such maner of clothing, of 
the which Jhesu Crist is more appayed than of haires or of 
hauberkis.35 

Than is discipline eek in knokking on the brest, in 
scourgyng with yerdes, in knelynges, in tribulaciouns, in 
suffring paciently wronges that ben doon to him and eek 
in pacient sufferaunce of maledies, or lesyng of worldly 
catel, or of wif, or of child, or of othir frendes. 

Thanne schalt thou understonde whiche thinges des- 
tourben penaunce, and this is in foure thinges ; that is 
drede, schame, hope, and wanhope, that is, desperacioun. 
And for to speke first of drede, for which he weneth that 
he may suffre no penaunce, ther agayns is remedye for to 
thinke that bodily penaunce is but schort and htel at the 
regard of the peyne of helle, that is so cruel and so long, 
that it lastitli withouten ende. 

Now agains the schame that a man hath to schry ve him, 
and namely these ypocrites, that wolde be holde so parfyt, 
that thay have no neede to schry ve hem ; agayns that 
schame schulde a man thinke, that by way of resoun he 
that hath not ben aschamed to do foule thinges, certis him 
oughte not be aschamed to doon faire thinges and goode 
thinges, and that is confessioun. A man scholde eek 
thinke, that God seeth and knoweth alle thy thoughtes 
and thy werkes ; to him may no thing be hyd ne covered. 
«» hauberkis. Tyrwliitt reaiia habtrytons. 



THE FJERSONES TALtl. 009 



Men schulde eek remembre hem of the schame that is to 
come at the day of doom, to hem that ben nought penitent 
and schriven in this present hf ; for alle the creatures in 
heven, and in erthe, and in helle, schuln seen apartly al 
that he hydith in this world. 

Now for to speke of hem that ben so negligent and slowe 
to schryve hem ; that stant in tuo maneres. That oon i^, 
that he hopith for to lyve longe, and for topurchace nioi hi 
riches for his delyt, and thanne he wol schrive him ; aii(i, 
as he saith, he may, as him semith, tymely y-nough coujti 
to schrifte ; another is, the surquidrie that he hath in 
Gristes mercy. Agains the firste vice, he schal thinke that 
oure lif is in no sikernesse, and eek that al the riches in 
this world ben in adventure, and passen as a schadowe on 
the wal ; and, as saith seint Gregory, that it apperteyneth 
to the grete rightwisnes of God, that never schal the peyne 
stynte of hem, that never wolde withdrawe hem fro synne 
her thankes, but ay continue in synne ; for thilke perpetuel 
wille to doon synne schul thay have perpetuel peyne. 

Wannope is in tuo maneres. The firste wanhope is, in 
the mercy of Crist ; that other is, that thay thinke tbsy 
mighte nought longe persever in goodnesse. The firste 
wanhope cometh of that he demyth that he synned so 
highly and so ofte, and so longe layn in synne, rhat he 
schal not be saved. Certis agens that cursed wanhope 
B'^jhulde he thenke, that the passioun of Jhesu Crist is more 
strong for to unbynde, than synne is strong for to bynde. 
Agains the secounde wanhope he schal thinke, thatals ofte 
as he fallith, he may arise agayn by penitence ; and though 
he never so longe have leyn in synne, the mercy oi Crist is 
alwayredy to resceyve him to mercy. Agains the wanhope 
that he t'hinkithhe schulde not longe persevere in goodnesse, 
he schal thinke that the febles of the devel may no thing 
doon, but men wol suffre him ; and eek he schal have 
strengthe of the help of God, and of al holy chirche, and of 
the proteccioun of aungels, if him list, 

Thanne schal men understonde, what is the fruyt of 
penaunce ; and after the word of Jhesu Crist, it is the 
endeles blisse of heven, ther joye hath no contrariete of wo 
ne of penaunce ne grevance ; ther alle harmes ben passed 
of this present lif ; ther as is the sikernesse fro the peyne of 
helle ; there as is the blisful compagnye, thatrejoycen hem 
evermo everich of otheres joye ; ther as the body of man, 
that whilom was foule and derke, is more clere than the 
Sonne ; ther as the body of man that whilom was seek 
and frel, feble and mortal, is immortal, and so strong and 
so hool, that ther may no thing empeire it ; ther nys 



rsrr 



570 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



neyther honger, ne tliurst, ne colde, but every soule re- 
pleiiisched with the sight of the parfyt knowyng of (iod* 
This bUsful regne may men purchace by poverte espirituel, 
and tlie glorie by lowenes, the plente of joj^e by hunger 
and thurst, and reste by travaile, and the hf by deth and 
mortificacioun of synne ; to which hfe he us bringe, that 
bought us with his precious blood. Amen. 

Preces de Chaucer es.^^ 

Now pray I to yow alle that heren this htel tretis or 
reden it, that if ther be any thing in it that hkes hem, that 
therof thay thanke oure Lord Jhesu Crist, of whom pru- 
cedith alle witte and al goodnes; and if ther be eny thing 
tViat displesith hem, I pray hem that thay arette it to the 
defaute of myn anconnyng, and not to my wille, that wolde 
fayn have sayd better if i hadde connyng ; for the book 
saith, al that is writen for oure doctrine is writen. Wher- 
fore I biseke yow mekely for the mercy of Grod that ye pray 
for me, that God have mercy on me and forgeve me my 
filtes, £.nd nameliche my translaciouns and of endityng in 
worldly vanitees, whiche I revoke in my retraccionns, as 
is the book of Troyles, the book also of Fame, the book of 
twenty-five Ladies, the book of the Duchesses, the book of 
seint Valentines day and of the Parliment of briddes, the 
Tales of Caunturbury, alle thilke that sounen into synne, 
the book of the Leo, and many other bokes, if thay were 
in my mynde or remembraunce, and many a song and 
many a leccherous lay, of the whiche Crist for his grete 
mercy forgive me the synnes. But of the translacioun of 
Boce de consolacioun, and other bokes of consolacioun, 
and of legend of lyvesof seints, andOmelies, and moralitees, 
and devocioun, that thanke I oure Lord Jhesu Crist, and 
Ills moder, and alle the seintes in heven, bisekyng hem 
that thay fro hennysforth unto my lyves ende sende me 
grace to biwayle my gultes, and to studien to thesavacioun 
of my soule, and graunte me grace and space of verray 
repentaunce, penitence, confessioun, and satisfaccioun, to 

36 Preces <le Chmiceres. T have printed the celebrated prayer which con- 
cludes the Canterbury Tales exactly as it stands in the Harleian Manuscript. 
In some manuscripts it is given as though it were the conclusion of tbe tale 
or discourse of the Parson, but in others, as here, it is distinctly given to 
Chaucer himself. It varies much in the different manuscripts, and there are 
many circumstances about it which it seems impossible to explain satisfac- 
torily. Tyrwhitt attempts to get over a part of the <litticulty by supposing 
that the prayer was really the conclusion of the Parson's Tale, and that the 
middle portion, Wherfore I beseke yoio . . .the seintes in heven, including the 
lit of Chaucer's works, was added subsequently by a scribe who chose to put 
the prayer into Chaucer's own mouth, aud wished to make tbe poet apologize 
for the looseness of some of his writings. 



THE CUCKOW AND THE NIGHTINGALE. 571 



don in this present lif, thurgh the benigne grace of him, 

that is king of kyngea and prest of alle prestis, that bought 

us with liis precious blood of his hert, so that I moot be ] 

oon of hem at the day of doom that sclial be saved : qui 

cum Patre et Spiritu sancto vivis et regnas Deus per omnia 

secula. Amen. 



THE CUCKOW AND THE NIGHTINGALE. 



Chaucer dreameth that hee heareth tho «jucko\v and the nighti.'igale contend 
for excellence in singing. 



The god of love, and benedicite, 
How mighty and how great a lord is he! 
For he can make of low hertes hie, 
And of high low, and like for to die, 
And hard hertes he can maken free. 

He can make within a little stound. 

Of sicke folke hole, fresh, and sound, 

And of hole he can make seke, 

He can bind and unbinden eke. 

That he woU have bounden or unbound. 

To tell his might my wit may not suffice, 
For hp con make of wise folke full nice, 
For h.^ may do all that he woll devise, 
And lither folke to destroyen vice, 
And proud hertes he can make agrise. 

Shortly, all that ever he woll he may, 
Against him dare no wight say nay. 
For he can glad and greve who?ii him liketb. 
And who that he woll lougheth or siketh. 
And most his might he shedeth ever in May. 

For every true gentle herte free. 

That with him is or thinketh for to be. 

Again May now shall have some stering 

Or to joy or els to soine mourning, 

In no season so much, as thinketh ma. 



572 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

For wlian they may here the birds sing. 
And see the floures and the leav^es spring, 
That bringeth into hir remembraunce 
A manner ease, medled Avith grevaunce, 
And lustie thoughts full of great longing. 

And of that longing commeth hevinesse, 
And thereof groweth of great sicknesse, 
And for lacke of that that they desire, 
And thus in May ben hertes set on fire. 
So that they brennen forth in great distresse, 

I speake this of feeling truly 

If I be old and unlusty, 

Yet I have felt of the sicknesse through May^ 

Both hote and cold, and p>ccesse every day, 

Kow sore ywis there wote no wight but I. 

1 am so shaken with the fevers white, 

Of all this May sleepe I but a lite. 

And also it is not like to me 

That any herte should sleepy be 

In whom that Love his firy dart woU smite. 

But as I lay this other night waking, 
I thought how lovers had a tokening, 
And among hem it was a commune tale 
That it were good to here the nightingale 
Rather than the leud cuckow sing. 

And than I thought, anon, as it was day, 
I would go some where to assay 
If that I might a nightingale here, 
For yet had I none heard of all that yere, 
And it was tho the third night of May. 

And anone, as T the day aspide. 

No lenger would I in my bed abide. 

But unto a wood that was fast by 

1 went forth alone boldely, 

And held the way downe by a brooke side, 

Till I came to a laund of white and green. 

So faire one had I never in been. 

The ground was green, ypoudred with daisie, 

The lloures and the greves like hie. 

All greene and white, was nothing els scene. 



THE CUCKOW AND THE NIGHTINGALE. 573 



There sate I downe among the faire flours, 
And saw the birds trip out of hir hours, 
There as they rested hem all the night, 
They were so joyfull of the dayes light, 
They began of May for to done honours. 

They coud that service all by rote, 
There was many a lovely note, 
Some song loud, as they had plained, 
And some in other manner voice yfained, 
And some all out with the full throte. 

They proyned hem and made hem right gay. 
And daunceden and lepten on the spray, 
And evermore two and two in fere, 
Right so as they had chosen hem to yere 
In Feverere upon saint Valentines day. 

And the river that I sate upon, 
It made such a noise as it ron, 
Accordaunt with the birdes armony, 
Me thought it was the best melody 
That might ben yheard of any mono 

And for delite, I wote never how, 

I fell in such a slomber and a swow, 

Nat all asleepe, ne fully waking, 

And in that swow, me thought, I hearde sirg 

The sorry bird, the leud cuckow. 

And that was on a tree right fast by, 
But who was than evill apaid but I ? 
"Now God," quod I, *' that died on the crois, 
Yeve sorrow on thee, and on thy leud vois, 
Full little joy have I now of thy cry." 

And as I with the cuckow thus gan chide, 

I heard in the next bush beside 

A nightingale so lustely sing 

That with her clere voice she made ring 

Through ail the greene wood wide. 

"Ah, good nightingale," quod I then, 
" A little hast thou ben too long hen, 
For here hath been the leud cuckow. 
And songen songs rather than hast thou, 
I pray to God evill fire her bren." 



674 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



But now I woll you tell a wonder thing, 

As long as I lay in that swouning, 

Me thought I wist what the birds ment. 

And what they said, and what was hir entent. 

And of hir speech I had good knowing. 

There heard I the nightingale say, 
" Now good cuckoW: go somewhere away, 
And let us that can singen dwellen here, 
For every wight escheweth thee to here. 
Thy songs be so elenge, in good fay." 

" What," quod she, '* what may thee alen now? 
It thinketh me, I slug as well as thou. 
For my song is both true and x^laine. 
And though I cannot crakell so in vaine. 
As thou dost in thy throte, I wot never how. 

*' And every wight may understande mee. 

But, nightingale, so may they not done thee, 

For thou hast many a nice queint cry, 

I have thee heard saine, ocy, ocy. 

How might I know what that should be ? " 

"Ah foole," quod she, wost thou not what it is* 

Whan that I say, ocy, ocy ? ywis, 

Than meane I that I would wonder faine, 

That all they were shamefully yslaine, 

That meanen ought againe love amis. 

** And also I would that all tho were dede 
That thinke not in love hir life to lede. 
For who so that wol not the god of love serve, 
I dare well say he is worthy to sterve, 
And for that skill, ocy, ocy, I grede." 

** Eye," quod the cuckow, ** this is a queint law. 

That every wight shall love or be to draw^ 

But I forsake all such companie, 

For mine entent is not for to die, 

Ne never while I live on Loves yoke to draw ; 

** For lovers ben the folke that ben on live 
That most disease have, and most unthrive. 
And most endure sorrow, wo, and care, 
And least feelen of welfare. 
What needeth it ayenst trouth to strive ? " 



The cuckow and the nightingale. 575 



What ! " quod she, " thou art out of thy niiiul 
How might thou in thy churlenesse find 
To speake of Loves servaunts in this wise, 
For in this world is none so good servise 
To every wight that gentle is of kind. 

** For thereof truly commeth all goodnesse, 
All honour and all gentlenesse, 
Worship, ease, and all hertes lust, 
Parfite joy, and full assured trust, 
Jolitie, pleasaunce and freshnesse, 

** Lowlyhead, largesse, and curtesie, 
Senielyhead, and true conipanie, 
Drede of shame for to done amis 
For he that truly Loves servaunt is, 
Were lother be shamed than to die. 

*' And that this is soth that I sey. 

In that beleeve I will live and dey. 

And cuckow, so I rede that thou do ywis ; *' 

*' Tiifcin, ■' quod he, " let me never have blisse, 

If ever I unto that counsaile obey. 

*' Nightingale, thou speakest wonder faire, 
But for all that is the sooth contraire. 
For love is in yong folke but rage, 
And in old folke a great dotage. 
Who most it useth, most shall enpaire. 

** For thereof cometh disease and hevinesse, 
So sorrow and care, and many a great sicknesse 
Despite, debate, anger, and envie. 
Depraving, shame, untrust, and jelousie, 
Pridey mischeefe, poverty, and woodnesse : 

" Loving is an office of despaire, 

And one thing is therein that is not faire. 

For who that getteth of love a little blisse. 

But if he be alway therwith, ywis, 

He may full soone of age have his haire, 

*' And nightingale, therefore hold thee nie. 
For leve me well, for all thy queint crie, 
If thou be ferre or long fro thy make. 
Thou shalt be as others that been forsake, 
And than thou shalt hoten as doe I." 



576 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



*' Fie," quod she, "on thy name, and on thee I 
The god of love ne let thee never ythe, 
For thou art worse a thousand fold than wood, 
For many a one is full worthy and full good, 
That had be naught ne had love ybe. 

" For evermore Love his servants amendeth. 
And from all evill taches hem defendeth, 
And maketh hem to brenne right in a fire, 
In trouth and in worshipfull desire, 
And whan him liketh, joy inough him sendeth/-' 

** Thou nightingale," he said, *' be still. 
For Love hath no reason, but it is will. 
For oft time untrue folke he easeth. 
And true folk so biterly he displeaseth, 
That for default of courage he let hem spill. 

" With suche a lord wulle I never be, 

For he is blinde and may not se 3 

And when he liethe he not ne when he fayietn^ 

In his courte full seld trouthe availethe ; 

So dy verse and so wilfull ys he." 

Than tooke I of he nightingale keepe, 

How she cast a sigh out of her deepe, 

And said, " Alas, that ever I was bore» 

I can for tene not say one word more," 

And right with that word she brast out to weepe* 

*' Alas," quod she, *' my herte woll breake, 
To hearen thus this leud bird speake 
Of Love, and of his worshipfull servise. 
Now God of love, thou help me in some wise. 
That I may on this cuckow been awreake." 

Me thoght then that I start out anon, 
And to the broke I ran and gate a ston, 
And at the Cuckow hertely I cast ; 
And he for drede flie awey full fast, 
And glad was I when that he was gon. 

And evermore the Cuckow, as he fiey, 
ne seid, " farewell, farewell, papyngay ! "j 
As thogh he had skorryd thoght of me ; 
But ay I hunted him fro tre to tre 
Til he was fer all out of sight awey. 



THE CUCKOW AND THE NIGHTINGALE. 577 

And than came the nightingale to mee, 
And said, "Friend, forsooth I thanke thee, 
That thou hast hked me to rescow, 
And one avow to Love make I now, 
That all this May I woU thy singer be." 

I thanked her, and was right well apaied : 
*' Ye," quod she, " and be thou not dismaied, 
Tho thou have herd the cuckow erst than me, 
For, if I live, it shall amended be 
The next May, if I be not affraied. 

-' And one thing 1 well rede thee also, 

Ne leve thou not the cuckow, ne his loves so, 

For all that he hath said is strong lesing : " 

*' Nay," quod I, " thereto shall nothing me bring. 

For love, and it hath doe me much wo. 

** Ye, use," quod she, "this medicine 

Every day this May or thou dine, 

Go looke upon the fresh daisie, 

And though thou be for wo in point to die, 

That shall full greatly lessen thee of thy pine. 

" And looke alway that thou be good and trew, 

And I woll sing one of the songes new 

For love of thee, as loud as I may crie : " 

And than she began this song full hie, 

*' I shrew all hem that been of love untrue.'* 

And when she had song it to the end, 

" Now farewell," quod she, '-for I mote wend, 

And god of love, that can right wel, and may 

A much joy send thee this day, 

As any lover yet he ever send." 

Thus taketh the nightingale her leave of mo, 
I pray to God alway with her be. 
And joy of love he send her evermore, 
And shilde us fro the cuckow and his lore, 
For there is not so false a bird as he. 

Forth she flew, the gentle nightingale, 
To all the birds that were in that dale, 
And gate hem all into a place in fere, 
And besoughten hem that they would her© 
Her disease, and thus began her tale, 

37 



578 THE CANTEBBUBT TALES. 



" The cuckow, well it is not for to hide, 
How the cuckow and I fast have chide 
Ever sithen it was day light, 
I pray you all that ye do me right 
On that foule false unkind bridde.'* 

Than spake o bird for al, by one assent, 
**This matter asketh good avisement, 
For we ben birdes here in fere, 
And sooth it is, the cuckow is not here, 
And therefore we woU have a parliment. 

*• And thereat shall the egle be our lord, 
And other peres that been of record, 
And the cuckow shall be after sent, 
There shall be yeve the judgement. 
Or els we shall finally make accord. 

" And this shall be without nay, 
The morrow after saint Valentines day, 
Under a maple that is faire and grene. 
Before the chamber window of the quene. 
At Woodstocke upon the grene lay." 

She thanked hem, and than her leave toke, 
And into an hauthorne by that broke, 
And there she sate and song upon that trea, 
*' Terme of life love hath withhold me," 
Lo loud that I with that song awoke. 



THE ASSEMBLY OF FOULES. 



V. 1-70 

The lyfe so short, the craft so long to lern©, 
Tli'assay so hard, so sharp the conquering, 
The dreadful joy alway that flit so yerne, 
All this I mean by Love, that my feeling 
Astonieth with his wonderful werkyng, 
So sore y wis, that whan I on him think, 
iNaught wete I wel, whether 1 flete or sink. 



THE ASSEMBLE OF F0ULE8, 679 



For all be that I know not Love in dede, 
Ne wot how that he quiteth folke hir hire, 
Yet happeth nie fall oft in bookes rede 
Of his niyracles, and of his cruell ire, 
There rede I well, he woU be lorde and sire j 
1 dare not say Lis strokes be sore, 
But Grod save such a lorde, I can no more. 

Of usage, what for lust and what for lore, 

On bookes rede I of, as I you told, 

But wherfore speake I all this ? naught yore 

Agon, it happed me to behold 

Upon a booke was y written with letters old. 

And thereupon a certain thing to lerne, 

The long day full fast I radde and yerne. 

For out of the old fieldes, as men saithe, 
Cometh al this new corne fro to yere to yere, 
And out of old bookes, in good faithe, 
Cometh all this new science that men lere, 
But now to purpose, as of this mattere. 
To rede forth it gan me so delite, 
That all that day me thought it but a lite. 

This booke oi which I make mencion. 
Entitled was right thus, as I shall tell, 
Tulhus of the dreame of Scipion : 
Chapiters seven it had, of Heaven and Hell, 
And Earth, and soules that therein dwell, 
Of which as shortly as I can it treate, 
Of his sentence I woll you saine the greate. 

First telleth it, whan Scipion was come 
In Affricke, how he meteth Massinisse, 
That him for joy, in armes hath ynome, 
Than telleth he hir speach and all the blisse, 
That was betwixt hem til the day gan misse, 
And how his auncester Affrikan so dere, 
Gan in his slepe that night til him appere. 

Than telleth it, that from a sterrie place, 
How Affrikan hath him Cartage shewed, 
And warned him before of all his grace. 
And said him, what man lered eyther lewde, 
That loveth common profite well ithewde, 
He should into a blissfull place wend, 
There as the joy is without any end. 



580 THE CANTEBBURT TALES. 



Than asked he, if folke that here been dede 
Have life, and dwelling in another place ? 
And Affrikan said Ye, without any drede, 
And how our present lives space 
Ment but a maner death, what way we trace, 
And rightfull folke, shuU gon after they die 
To Heaven, and shewed him the Galaxie. 

Than shewed he him the little earth that here is 

To regard of the Heavens quantite. 

And after shewed he hym the nine speris, 

And after that the melodie heard he, 

That commetli of thilke speres thrise three, 

That Welles of musicke been and melodie 

In this world here, the cause of armonie. 

Than said he him, sens Earth was so lite, 
And full of tourment, and of harde grace, 
That he ne should him in this world delite : 
Than told he him, in certain yeres space, 
That every sterre should come into his place, 
There it was first, and ail should out of mind 
That in this world is done of all mankind. 

Then prayed him Scipion, to tell him all 
The way to come into that Heaven blisse. 
And he said : " First know thy selfe immortall, 
And loke aie besely that thou werche and wisse 
To common profite, and thou shalt not misse 
To come swiftly unto the place dere, 
That full of blisse is, and of soules clere. 

*' And breakers of the law, soth to saine, 
And likerous folke, after that they been deded. 
Shall whirle about the world alway in paine 
Till many a world be passed out of drede. 
And than, foryeven all hir wicked dede. 
Than shuUen they come to that bhsfull place. 
To which to comen, God send thee grace." 

The day gan fallen, and the darke night 
That reveth beastes from hir businesse, 
Beraft me my booke for lacke of light, 
And to my bedde I gan me for to dresse, 
Fulfilled of thought and besie heavinesse, 
For both I had thyng, which that I n'old. 
And eke I ne had that thing that I wold. 



rUE A SSEMBL Y OF FO XJLFS. 581 



But finally my spirite at last, 
Porweary of my labour all that day, 
Tooke rest, that made me to slepe fast, 
And in my slepe I mette, as that I say, 
How Affrikan, right in the selfe aray 
That Scipion him saw, before that tide, 
Was come, and stode right at my beds side. 

The wearie hunter sleeping in his bedde, 

The wood ayen his mind goeth anone, 

The judge dremeth how his plees he spedde, 

The carter dremeth how his cartes gone, 

The rich of gold, the knight fights with his forie. 

The sicke mette he drinketh of the tonne, 

The lover mette he hath his lady wonne. 

Can I not saine, if that the cause were 

Por I had radde of Affrikan beforne, 

That made me to mete that he stood there, 

But thus said he : " Thou hast thee so well borne 

In looking of mine old booke all to torne. 

Of which Macrobie raught not a. lite, 

That some dele of thy labour would I quite." 

Citherea, thou blisful lady swete, 

That with thy fire brond dauntest whan thee lest-, 

That madest me this sweven for to mete, 

Be thou my helpe in this, for thou maist best, 

As wisely as I seigh the north northwest, 

Whan I began my sweven for to write, 

So yeve me might to rime it and endite. 

This foresaid Affrikan me hent anone, 

And forthwith him to a gate brought, 

Right of a parke, walled with grene stone. 

And over the gate, with letters large ywrought. 

There were verse ywritten as me thought 

On either halfe, of full great difference. 

Of which 1 shall you say the playne sentence : 

*' Through me men gon into the blisful placo 
Of hertes heale and dedly woundes cure. 
Through me men gon into the well of grace. 
There grene and lusty May shall ever endure, 
This is the way to all good a venture. 
Be glad thou reader, and thy sorrow off cast, 
AH open am I, passe in and spede thee fastt" 



582 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



** Through me men gon " (than spake the other side) 
** Unto the mortall strokes of the speare, 
Of which Disdaine and Danger is the gide , 
There never tree shall fruit ne leaves beare, 
This streme you ledeth to the sorrowful were. 
There as the fish in pryson is all dry, 
The eschewing is onely the remedy." 

These verses of gold and asure ywritten weare, 

Of which I gan astonied to behold, 

Bor with that one encreased all my feare, 

And with that other gan my herte to bolde. 

That one me hette, that other did me colde, 

No wit had I for errour for to chese, 

To enter or file, or me to save or lese. 

Bight as betwene adamants two, 
Of even weight, a peece of yron set 
Ne hath no might to move ne to ne fro, 
For what that one may hale that other let. 
So fared I, that I n'ist where me was bet. 
To entre or leave, till Affrikan my gide. 
Me hent and shove in at the gates wide. 

And said, *' It standeth written in thy face. 
Thine errour, though thou telle it not me, 
But dread thee not to come into this place, 
For this writing is nothing meant by thee, 
Ne by none, but he Love's servaunt bee. 
For thou of love hast lost thy tast of gesse, 
As sicke men hath, of swete and bitternesse, 

** But natheles, although thou be dull, 
That thou canst not doe, yet mayst thou see, 
For many a man that may not stand a pull. 
Yet liketh it him at the wrestlyng for to be. 
And demeth yet, whether he doe bet, or he. 
And if thou haddest connyng for t'endite, 
I shall thee shew matter of to write.'* 

And with that my hand in his he toke anon, 
Of which I comfort caught, and went in fast, 
But Lord so I was glad, and well begon. 
For over all, where I mine eyen cast, 
Were trees clad with leaves, that aie shal last 
Eche in his kind, with colour fresh and grene. 
As emeraude: that joy it was to sene. 



THIS A SSEMB LY OF FO ULES. ^^^ 



The bilder oke, and eke the hardy asshe, 
The piller ehiie, and coffre unto caraine, 
The boxe pipe tree, hohne to whippes lasshe, 
The seihng firre, the cipres death to plaine, 
The shooter ewe, the aspe for shaftes plaine, 
The oUve of peace, and eke the dronken vine. 
The victor palme, the laurer too divine. 

A gardein saw I full of blosomed bowis, 
Upon a river in a grene niede, 
There as sweetnesse evermore inough is, 
With floures white, blewe, yelowe, and rede. 
And cold welle streames, nothing dede, 
That swommen full of sniale fishes light, 
With finnes rede, and scales silver bright. 

On every bough the birdes heard I sing, 

With voice of angell in hir armonie. 

That busied hem hir birdes forth to bring, 

The little pretty conies to hir play gan hie. 

And further all about I gan espie 

The dredeful roe, the buck, the hart, and hind. 

Squirrels, and beastes small of gentle kind. 

Of instruments of stringes in accorde 
Heard I so play a ravishing swetnesse. 
That God, that maker is of all and Lorde, 
Ne heard never better, as I gesse. 
Therewith a wind, unneth it might be lesse. 
Made in the leaves grene a noise soft 
Accordant to the foules song on loft. 

The aire of the place so attempre was, 
That never was ther gi-evance of hot ne cold, 
Ther was eke every holsome spice and gras, 
Ne no man may there wexe sicko ne old, 
Yet was there more joy o thousand fold. 
Than I can tell or ever could or might. 
There is ever clere day, and never night. 

Under a tree beside a well I sey 

Cupide, our lorde, his arrowes forge and file 

And at his feete his bowe already lay, 

And well his doughter tempred all the while 

The heddes in the well, with her wile 

She couched hem after, as they should serve 

Some to slee, and some to wound and carve. 



684 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Tho was I ware of Pleasaunce anon right, 
And of Array, Lust, Beauty, and Curtesie, 
And of the Craft, that can and hath the might 
To don by force a wight to don fohe : 
Disfigured was she, I will not lie. 
And by hiniselfe, under an oke I gesse, 
Sawe I Delite, that stood with Gentlenesse. 

Than saw I Beauty, with a nice attire, 

And Youth, full of game and jolitee, 

Foole-bardinesse, Flatterie, and Desire, 

Messagerie, Mede, and other three^ 

Hir names shall not here be told for me ; 

And upon pillers great of jasper long, 

I sawe a temple of brasse yfounded strong. 

And about the temple daunced alway 
Women inow, of which some there were 
Faire of hemself, and some of hem were gay, 
In kirtils all disheveled went they there, 
That was their office ever, fro yere to yere ; 
And on the temple, saw I white and faire, 
Of doves sitting many a thousand paire. 

And before the temple doore full soberly, 
Dame Peace sat, a curtaine in her honde. 
And her beside wonder discretly. 
Dame Pacience, sitting there I fonde, 
With face pale, upon an liill of sonde, 
And alther next, within and without. 
Behest and Arte, and of her folke a rout. 

Within the temple, of sighes hote as fire, 
I heard a swough that gan about ren, 
Which sighes were engendred with desire. 
That made every herte for to bren 
Of newe flambe, and well espied I then, 
That all the cause of sorowes that they drie 
Come of the bitter goddess Jalousie. 

The god Priapus saw I as I went 

Within the temple, in soverain place stond, 

In such array, as when the asse liim shent 

With crie by night, and with sceptre in honde ; 

Full busilie men gan assay and fonde, 

Upon his hedde to set of sondrie hewe, 

^arlandes full of freshe floures newe. 



TTTE ASSEMBLY OF FOULES. 



585 



And in a privie corner, in disport 
Found I Venus, and her porter Richesse, 
That was full noble and hautein of her port ; 
Darke was that place, but after lightnesse, 
1 sawe a lite, unnethes it might be lesse, 
And on a bed of golde she lay to rest, 
Till that the liote Sonne gan to west. 

Her gilte heeres with a gold threde 
Tbound were, untressed as she lay, 
And naked from the brest unto the hede, 
Men might her see, and sothly for to saie. 
The remnaunt, covered well to my paie. 
Right with a little kerchefe of Valence, 
There was no thicker clothe of defence. 

The place gave a thousand savours soote, 
And Bacchus god of wine sate her beside, 
And Ceres next, that doeth of hunger boote. 
And as I said, amiddes lay Cupide, 
To whom on knees, the yonge folkes cride, 
To be their helpe, but thus I let her lie. 
And farther in her temple I gan espie. 

That in dispite of Diane the chaste, 

Full many a bowe ybroke hing on the wall. 

Of maidens, such as gone hir times waste 

In her service : and painted over all. 

Of many a storie, of which I touch shall 

A fewe, as of Calixte, and Athalant, 

And many a maid, of which the name I want. 

Semyramus, Candace, and Hercules, 
Biblis, Dido, Tisbe, and Piramus, 
Tristram, Isoude, Paris, and Achilles, 
Helaine, Cleopatre, and Troilus, 
Sylla, and eke the mother of Romulus, 
All these were paynted on that other side, 
And all hir love, and in what plite they dide. 

Whan I was commen ayen into the place 
That I of spake, that was so soote and greua, 
Forth walked I tho, my seiven to solace, 
Tho was I ware, where there sate a queue, 
That as of light the sommer Sunne shene 
Passeth the sterre, right so over mesure, 
She fairer was than any creaturo« 



586 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And in a lannde, upon an hill of floures, 
Was set this noble goddesse Nature, 
Of branches were her halles and her boures 
Ywrought, after her craft and her mesiire, 
Ne there n'as foul that cometh of engendrure, 
That there ne were prest in her presence, 
To take hir dome and yeve hir audience. 

For this was on sainct Valentines day, 
Whan every foule cometh to chese hir make, 
Of every kind that men thinke may. 
And that so huge a noise gan they make, 
That earth, sea, and tree, and every lake, 
So full was, that unneth there was space 
Por me to stand, so full was all the place. 

And right as Alain, in the Plaint of Kinde, 
Deviseth Nature of such araie and face. 
In suche aray men might her there finde. 
This noble empresse full of all grace, 
Bad every foule take hir owne place. 
As they were wont alway, fro yere to yere, 
On sainct Valentines day, standen there. 

That is to say, the foules of ravine 

Were highest set, and than the foules smale, 

That eaten as that nature would encline, 

As worme or thing, of which I tell no tale. 

But water foule sat lowest in the dale, 

And foules that liveth by seed sat on the grene, 

And that so many, that wonder was to sene. 

There might men the royall egle find. 
That with his sharpe looke perseth the Son, 
And other egles of a lower kind. 
Of which that clerkes well devisen con ; 
There was the tyrant with his f ethers don, 
And grene, I mean the goshauke that doth pine 
■ To birdes, for his outragious ravine. 

The gentle faucon, that with his fete distreineth 
The kings hand, the hardy sperhauke eke, 
The quailes foe, the merlion that peineth 
Himself full oft the larke for to seke, 
There was the dove, with her eyen meke, 
The jelous swan, ayenst his deth that singeth. 
The oule eke, that of deth the bode bringeth. 



TBE ASSEMBLY OF FOULES. 68*^ 



The crane, the geaunt, with his troiiipes soiine, 
Tlie thief the chough, and the chattring pie, 
The scorning jaye, the eles foe the heroune, 
Tlie false lapwing, full of trecherie, 
The stare, that the counsaile can bewrie, 
The tame ruddocke, and the coward kite, 
The cocke, that horiloge is of thorpes lite. 

The sparowe Venus' son, and the nightingalr 
That clepeth forth the fresh leaves new, 
Tho swalowe, murdrer of the bees smale 
That maken honie of floures fresh of hew. 
The wedded turtell, with his herte true. 
The pecocke, with his angel fethers bright, 
The fesaunt, scorner of the cocke by nightc 

The waker gose, the cuckowe ever unkind. 

The popingey, full of delicasy, 

The drake, stroier of his owne kind, 

The storke, wreker of aduoutry. 

The hote cornieraunt, ful of glotony, 

The ravin and the crowe, with her voice of care, 

The throstell olde, and the frostie feldefare. 

What should I say ? of foules of every kind, 
That in this world have fethers and stature, 
Men might in that place assembled find, 
Before that noble goddess of Nature, 
And eche of them did his busie cure, 
Benignely to chese, or for to take 
By her accorde, his formell or his make. 

But to the point : Nature held on her hond, 
A formell egle, of shape the gentillest. 
That ever she among her workes fond. 
The most benigne, and eke the goodliest, 
In her was every vertue, at his rest 
So farforth, that Nature her selfe had blisse, 
To looke on her, and oft her beeke to kisse. 

Nature, the vicar of the almightie Lord, 
That hote, colde, hevie, light, moist, and drio. 
Hath knit, by even number of accord. 
In easie voice, began to speake and say, 
*• Foules, take heed of my sentence I pray, 
And for your own ease, in furdring of your need* 
As fast as I may speak, I will me speed. 



588 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



*' Ye knowe wel, how on Saint Valentines day, 
By my statute, and through my governance, 
Ye do chese your makes, and after flie away 
With hem, as I pricke you with pleasaunce^ 
But nathelesse, as by rightfuli ordinaunce, 
May I not let, for all this world to win, 
But he that most worthiest is shall begin. 

** The tercell egle, as ye know full wele. 

The foule royall, above you all in degre, 

The wise and worthie, the secret true as stele, 

The which I have formed, as ye may see, 

In every parte as it best liketh mee, 

It nedeth not his shape you to devise, 

He shall first chese, and speken in his gise. 

** And after him, by order shall ye chese, 
After your kind, everiche as you liketh, 
And as your hap is, shall ye win or lese 
But which of you that loves most entriketh, 
God sende him her that sorest for him siketh : " 
And therewithall, the tercell gan she call, 
And said, " My sonne, the choise is to thee fall# 

" But nathelesse, in this condicion 

Must be the choice of everiche that is here, 

That she agree to his election, 

Who so he be, that should been her fere, 

This is our usage alway, fro yere to yere, 

And who so may at this time have his grace, 

In blisfull time he came into this place." 

With hed enclined, and with ful humble chere, 
This roial tercell spake, and taried nought, 
" Unto my soveraine lady, and not my fere, 
I chose and chese, with will, herte, and thought, 
The formell on your hand, so wel y wrought, 
Whose I am all, and ever will her serve. 
Doe what her luste, to doe me live or sterve. 



1 *' Besechyng her of mercy, and of grace, 

J As she that is my ladie soveraine, 

^ Or let me die here present in this place, 

'' For certes long may I not live in paine, 

For in my herte is corven every vaine. 
Having regard onely to my trouth. 
My dere herte, have on my wo some routh. 



THE ASSEMBL Y OF FO TTL ES;. 589 



** And if I be found to her untrue, 
Disobeisaunt, or wilfull negligent, 
Avauntour, or in processe love a newe, 
I pray to you this be my judgement, 
That with these foules I be all to rent. 
That like day that she me ever find 
To her untrue, or in my gilte unkind. 

" And saith that none loveth her so well as I, 
Although she never of love me behet, 
Than ought she be mine through her mercy, 
For other bonde can I none on her knet : 
For wele nor wo never shall I let 
To serve her, how farre so that she wende. 
Say what you list, my tale is at an ende." 

Right as the fresh redde rose newe 
Against the sommer Sunne coloured is, 
Right so for shame all waxen gan the hewe 
Of this formell, whan she heard all this, 
Neither she answerde well, ne said amis, 
So sore abashed was she, till that Nature 
Said, *' Doughter drede you not, I you assure." 

Another tercell egle spake anon, 

Of another kind, and said, " That should not be, 

I love her better than ye doe, by saint John, 

Or at the least, I love her as well as ye. 

And lenger have served her in my degree, 

And if she should have loved for long loving. 

To me alone had be the guerdoning. 

** I dare eke say, if she me finde false. 

Unkind jangler, or rebell in any wise. 

Or jelous, doe me hang by the liaise, 

And but I beare me in her servise 

As well as my wit can me sufflse. 

Fro point to point, her honour for to save, 

Take she my life, and all the good I have.*' 

The third tercell egle answerde tho, 
" Now sirs, you see the little leaser here, 
For every foule crieth out to be ago 
Forth with his make, or with his ladydere: 
And eke Nature her self ne will not here 
For tarying her, not half that I would sey. 
And but I speake, I must for sorrow dey. 



590 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



** Of long service avaunt I me nothing, 
But as possible is me to die to day 
For wo, as he that hath be languishing 
This twenty winter, and wel it happen may, 
A man may serve better, and more to pay. 
In half a year, although it were no more, 
Than some man doth that hath served full yor&. 

** I ne say not this by me, for I ne can 

Do no service that may my lady please, 

But I dare say I am her trewest man, 

As to my dome, and fainest wolde her pleases 

At short wordes, till that death me cease, 

I will be hers, whether I wake or winke, 

4nd trewe in all that herte may bethinke.** 

Of al my life, sith that day I was borne, 

So gentle plee in love or other thing, 

No herde nev^er no man me beforne. 

Who so that had leiser and conning 

For to rehearse their chere, and their speaking ; 

And from the morrow gan this spech last. 

Till downward went the Sunne wonder fast. 

The noy.se of foales for to be deliverd, 

So loude rang, " Have don and let us wend," 

That well weend I, the wood had al to shiverd : 

•* Come off," they cryd, "alas, ye will us shend, 

Whan shal your cursed pleding have an end ? 

How should a judge either party leve, 

For ye or nay, without any preve ? " 

The goos, the duck, and the cuckowe also, 

So cried *' Keke, keke, Cuckow, Queke, queke, hie,** 

Through mine eares the noise went tho. 

The goos said than " Al this n'is worth a flie, 

But I can shape hereof a remedie, 

And will say my verdite, faire and s withe. 

For water foule, whose be wroth or blithe." 

*' And I for worm foule," said the fole cuckow, 

" For I will of mine own authorite. 

For common spede, take on me the charge now, 

For to deliver us it is great charite," 

'* Ye may abide a while, yet perde,'* 

(Quod the turtel) ''if it be your will, 

A wight may speak, it were as good be still. 



THE ASSEMBLY OF FOULES. 591 

'* I am a sede foule, one the unworthiest, 

That wote I well, and leest of conning, 

But better is that a wights tonge rest, 

Than entremete him of such doing 

Of which he neither rede can nor sing, 

And who so it doth, full foule himself acloyeth. 

For office uncommitted oft annoyeth." 

Nature, which that alway had an eare 

To murniure of the lewdenesse behind, 

With facond voice said, " Hold your tongues there 

And I shall soone, I hope, a counsaile find, 

You for to deliver, and fro this noyse unbind : 

I charge of every flock ye shall one call, 

To say the verdite of you foules all." 

Assented were to this conclusion, 

The birdes all ; and foules of ravine 

Have chosen first by plaine election, 

The tercelet of the faucon to define 

All hir sentence, and as him lust to termine. 

And to Nature him they did present, 

And she accepteth him with glad entent. 

The tercelet said than in this manere, 
"Full hard it were to preve it by reason, 
Who loveth best this gentle formell here, 
For everich hath such replicatioun, 
That by skils may none be brought adoun, 
I cannot see that arguments availe. 
Than seemeth it there must be battaile." 

*' All ready" (quod these eagle tercels tho :) 

** Nay sirs," (quod he) " if that I durst it say, 

Ye do me wrong, my tale is not ydo : 

For sirs, taketh nat a greefe I pray. 

It may not be as ye would, in this way, 

Ours is the voice, that have the charge in hand. 

And to the judges dome ye must stand. 

*' And, therefore, peace I say, as to my wit. 
Me would thinke, how that the worthiest 
Of knighthood, and lengest had used it, 
Most of estate, of blood the gentillest. 
Were fitting for her, if that her lest, 
And of these three, she wote her selfe I trow 
Which that he be, for it is hght to know.'* 



592 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



The water foules have their heads laid 
Togider, and of short avisement, 
Whan everiche had tliis verdite said. 
They said soothly all by one assent, 
How that the goos, with the facond gent, 
That so desireth to pronounce our nede, 
Shal tel her tale, and praid to God her spede. 

And for these water foules tho began 

The goose to speake, and in her cakeling 

She said, " Peace now, take keep every man, 

And herken which a reason I shall forth bring, 

My witte is sharpe, I love no tarrying, 

I say, I rede him, tho he were my brother. 

But she will love him, let him love another." 

*' Lo, here a parfite reason of a goose" 
(Quod the sperhauke) " never mote she the, 
Lo, such a thing it is to have a tongue lose: 
Now parde foole, yet were it better for the 
Have held thy peace than shewd thy nicete ; 
It lieth nat in his wit, nor in his will. 
But sooth is said, a fole cannot be still." 

The laughter arose of gen till foules all. 
And right anone the seed foules chosen had 
The turtle true, and gan her to hem call, 
And prayed her to say the sooth sad 
Of this matter, and asked what she rad ? 
And she answerd, that plainly her entent 
She would shew, and soothly what she ment. 

** Nay, God forbede a lover should chaunge," 
The turtle said (and wex for shame all red) 
"Though that his lady evermore be straunge, 
Yet let him serve her alway, till he be deed. 
Forsooth, I praise not the gooses reed, 
Por tho she died, I would none other make, 
I will be hers, till that the death me take." 

" Well, ybourded " (quod the duck) '* by my hat, 

That men should love alway causelesse, 

Who can a reason find, or wit in that ? 

Daunceth he merry that is mirthlesse ? 

Who should recke of that is retchlesse? 

Ye queke yet," quod the duck, " full well and fair. 

There be mo sterres in the skie than a pair." 



THE ASSEMBLY OF FX)ULES. 593 



" Now fie churle," quod the gentle tercelet, 

*' Out of the dunghill came that word aright, 

Thou canst not see which thing is well beset, 

Thou fairest by love as owles by light, 

The day hem blindeth, full well they see by night. 

Thy kind is of so low wretchedness, 

That what love is thou canst not see nor gess." 

Tho gan the cuckow put him forth in peace, 

For foule that eateth worme, and said blive : 

•' So I," quod he, " may have my make in peace, 

1 retch not how long that ye strive, 

Let ech of hem be soleine all hir live. 

This is my rede, sens they may nat accord, 

This short lesson needeth not record." 

" Ye have the glutton filde his paunch 

Than are we well," said the emerlon, 

" Thou murdrer of the heysugge on the braunch 

That brought thee forth, thou ruful glutton, 

Live thou solein, wormes corruption, 

Por no force is of lack of thy nature, 

Go, leude be thou while the world njay dure." 

•'Now peace," quod Nature, "I commaunde here. 

For I have heard all your opinion, 

And in effect yet be we never the nere, 

But finally, this is my conclusion. 

That sche her selfe shall have her election 

Of whom her list, who so be worthe or blithe, 

Eim that she cheseth, he shall her have as swithe. 

" Por sith it may not here discussed be 
Who loveth her best, as said the tercelet. 
Than wol I done this favour to her, that she 
Shall have right him on \vhom her herte is set, 
And he her, that his herte hath on her knet j 
This judge I Nature, for I may not lie 
To none estate, I have none other eye. 

" But as for counsaile for to chuse a make, 
If I were reason, than would I 
Counsaile you the royal tercell take, 
As said the tercelet full skilfully, 
As for the gentillest and most worthy, 
Which I have wroght so wel to my plesaunce 
That to you it ought ben a suffisaunce." 
38 



I 594 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



With dredeful voice that formel her answerd, 
'' My rightful lady, goddess of Nature, 
Sooth is, that I am ever under your yerd, 
As is everich other creature, 
And must be yours Avhile my life may dure, 
And therefore graunt me my first boone, 
And mine entent you woU I say right soone." 

" I graunt it you," quod sche, and right anone 

This formel eagle spake in this degree : 

*' Almighty quene, unto this year be done 

I ask" respite for to avisen mee, 

And after that to have my choice all free, 

This all and some that I would speak and sey, 

Ye get no more, although you do me dey. 

*' I wol not serven Venus ne Cupide, 
Forsooth as yet, by no maner way." 
*' Now sens it may none other ways betide '* 
(Quod Nature) '* here is no more to say. 
Than would I that these foules were away, 
£ch with his make, for terying lenger here," 
And said hem thus, as ye shall after here. 

*' To you speke I, ye tercelets " (quod Nature) 
*' Beth of good herte, and serveth all three, 
A yeare is not so long to endure, 
And ech of you paine him in his degree, 
For to do well, for God wote quit is she 
Fro you this year, what after so befall, 
This entremes is dressed for you all." 

And whan this werk brought was to an end, 
To every foule Nature yave his make, 
By even accord, and on hir way they wend, 
And Lord the blisse and joy that they make, 
For ech of hem gan other in his wings take, 
And with hir neckes ech gan other winde, 
Thanking alway the noble goddess of kinde. 

But first were chosen foules for to sing, 
As yere by yere was alway hir usaunce, 
To sing a roundtl at hir departing, 
To do Nature honour and plesaunce ; 
The note 1 trow maked was in Fraunce, 
The words were such as ye may here find, 
The next verse, as I now have in mind. 

Qui bien ayme tard oublye. 



MINOR POEMS 595 



''Now welcome summer, with thy sunnes soft, 
That hast this winter weatliers overshake, 
Saint Valentine, thou art full high on loft, 
Which drivest away the long nights blake ; 
Thus singen smale foules for thy sake. 
Well have they cause for to gladen oft, 
Sens each of hem recovered hath his make, 
Full blisf ul may they sing whan they awake.'* 

And with the shouting whan hir song was do, 
That the foules made at hir flight away, 
I woke, and other bookes took me to 
To rede upon and yet I rede alway, 
I hope ywis to rede so some day, 
That I shall mete something for to fare 
The bet, and thus to rede I nill not spare. 



MINOR POEMS. 



L'ENVOY DE CHAUCER A BUKTON. 

My master Bukton, whan of Christ our kir^g. 
Was asked, what is troth or sothfastnesso, 
He not a worde answerde to that asking, 
As who saith, no man is all true, I gesse : 
And therefore, though I hight to expressa 
The sorrow and wo that is in mariage, 
I dare not writeu of it no wickednesse, 
Lest I my selfe fall efte in suche dotage. 

I woll not say how that it is the chaine 
Of Sathanas, on which he knaweth ever, 
But I dare saine, were he out of his paine. 
As by his will he would be bounden never ; 
But thilke doted foole, that eft hath lever 
Ychayned be, than out of prison crepe, 
God let him never fro his wo discever, 
Ne no man him bewayle, though he wepe. 

But yet, lest thou doe worse, take a wife. 
Bet is to wedde than brenne in worse wise. 
But thou shalt have sorow on thy flesh thy life. 
And ben thy wives thrale, as sain these wise, 



596 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

And if that holy writ may not suffice, 
Experience shall thee teach, so may happe, 
Take the way lever to be taken in frise, 
Than efte to fall of wedding in the trappe. 

This little writte, proverbes or figures, 
I sende you, take keepe of it I rede, 
Unwise is he that can no wele endure, 
If thou be siker, put thee not in drede, 
The Wife of Bathe I pray you that ye rede 
Of this matter that we have on honde, 
God graunt you your lyfe freely to lede 
In fredome, for foule is to be bonde. 



BALADE SENT TO K. RICHARD. 

Sometime the world so stedfast was and stable^. 
Than mannes word was an obligatioun. 
And now it is so false and deceivable, 
That word and deed, as in conclusioun, 
Is nothing like, for tourned is up so doun 
All the world, through mede and fikelnesse, 
'^(?hat all is lost for lacke of stedfastnesse. 

What maketh the world to be so variable 

But lust, that men have in dissension? 

For among us a man is hold unable. 

But if he can by some collusion 

Doe his neighbour wrong and oppression : 

What causeth this but wilfuU wretchednesse 

That all is lost for lacke of stedfastnesse ? 

Trouth is put downe, reason is hold fable, 
Vertue hath now no domination. 
Pity is exiled, no man is merciable. 
Through covetise is blente discretion, 
The world hath made a permutation, 
Fro right to wrong, fro trouth to fikelnesse, 
That all is lost for lacke of stedfastnesse. 

l'envoye. 

Prince, desire to be honourable, 
Cherish thy folke, and hate extortion, 
Suffer nothing that may be reprovable 



MINOR POEMS. 597 



To thine estate, done in thy region, 

Shew fortii the yerd of castigation, 

Drede God, do law, love trouth and worthinesse, 

And wed thy folke ayen to stedfastnesso. 



GOOD COUNSAIL OF CHAUCER 

Fly fro the prease, and dwell with soothfastnesse. 
Suffise unto thy good though it be small, 
For horde that hate, and climbing tikelnesse, 
Prease hath envy, and wele is blent over all, 
Savour no more than thee behove shall. 
Rede well thy selfe that other folke canst rede, 
And trouth thee shall deliver, it is no drede. 

Paine thee not ech crooked to redress 
In trust of her that tourneth as a ball, 
Great rest standeth in little businesse, 
Beware also to spurne againe a nail, 
Strive not as doth a crocke with a wall, 
Deme thy selfe that demest others dede, 
And trouth thee shall deliver, it is no drede. 

That thee is sent receive in buxomnesse, 
The wrastHng of this world asketh a fall, 
Here is no home, here is but wildernesse, 
Forth, pilgrime ! forth, beast, out of thy stall ! 
Looke up on high, and thanke God of all ! 
Weive thy lusts, and let thy ghost thee lede, 
And trouth thee shall deliver, it is no drtde. 



A BALLADE OF THE VILLAGE WITHOUT PAINTING. 

PLAINTIPE TO FORTUNE. 

This wretched worldes transmutation, 

As wele and wo, now poor, and now honour, 

Without order or due discretion, 

Governed is by Fortunes errour. 

But natheless, the lacke of her favour 

Ne may not doe me sing, though that I die, 

J'ay tout perdu, mon temps et mon labour. 

For finally Fortune I defie. 



598 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 

Yet is me left the sight of my reasoun, 

To know friend fro foe in thy mirrour, 

So much hath yet thy tourning up and doun 

Ytaught me to knowen in an hour, 

But truly, no force of thy reddour 

To him that over himselfe hath maistrie. 

My suffisaunce shall be my succour, 

For finally Fortune I defie. 

Socrates, thou stedfast champion, 
She might never be thy turmentour, 
Thou never dredest her oppression, 
Ne in her chere found thou no favour, 
Thou knew the deceit of her colour. 
And that her moste worship is for to lie, 

1 know her eke a false dissimulour, 
For finally Fortune I defie. 



THE ANSWERE OP FORTUNE. 

No man is wretched, but himselfe it wene, 
Ne that hath in himselfe suffisaunce, 
Why saist thou than I am to thee so kene. 
That hast thy selfe out of my governance ? 
Say thus, graunt mercy of thine habundance 
That thou hast lent, or this, thou shalt not strives 
What wost thou yet how I thee woll avance ? 
And eke thou hast thy best friend ahve. 

I have thee taught devision betweene 
Friend of effect, and friend of countenaunce, 
Thee needeth nat the gall of an hine, 
That cureth eyen darke for her pennaunce, 
Now seest thou clere that were in ignoraunce. 
Yet holt thine anker, and yet thou maist arrive 
There bounty beareth the key of my substance. 
And eke thou hast thy best friend alive. 

How many have I refused to sustene, 
Sith I have thee fostred in thy pleasaunce ? 
Wolt thou than make a statute on thy quene. 
That I shall be aye at thine o rdinaunce ? 
Thou born art in my reigne of variaunce. 
About the whele with other must thou drive, 
My lore is bet than wicke is thy grevaunce, 
And eke thou hast thy best friend alive. 



MINOR POEMS. 599 



THE ANSWERE TO FORTUNE. 

Thy lore I dampne, it is adversity, 
My frend niaist thou not reve, bhnd goddesse, 
That I thy friends know, I thanke it thee, 
Take hem againe, let hem go lie a presse, 
The niggardes in keeping hir richesse, 
Pronostike is, thou wolt hir toure assaile, 
"Wicke appetite commeth aye before sicknesse, 
In general this rule may not faile. 

FORTUNE. 

Thou pinchest at my mutability, 
For I thee lent a droppe of my richesse. 
And now me liketh to withdraw me, 
Why shouldest thou my royalty oppresse ? 
The sea may ebbe and flow more and lesse, 
The welken hath might to shine, rain, and hail, 
Right so must I kithe my brotilnesse, 
In generall this rule may not fail. 

THE PLAINTIFE. 

Lo, the execution of the majesty, 
That all purveigheth of his right wisenesse, 
That same thing Fortune clepen ye, 
Ye blind beasts, full of leaudnesse, 
Thff -Heaven hath property of sikernesse. 
This world hath ever restlesse travaile, 
The last day is end of mine entresse, 
In generall this rule may not faile. 

th'envoye of fortune. 

Princes, I pray you of your gentilnesse 
Let not this man and me thus cry and plain, 
And I shall quite you this businesse, 
And if ye liste releve him of his pain, 
Pray ye his beste frende, of his noblesse, 
That to some better state he may attain* 



600 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



L'ENVOY DE CHAUCER. 

A SCOGAN. 

ToBROKEN been the statutes hie in Heaven, 
That create were eternally t'endure, 
Sithe that I see the bright goddes seven 
Mowe wepe and waile, and passion endure, 
As may in yearth a mortall creature : 
Alas, fro whens may this thing procede, 
Of which errour I die almost for drede ? 

By word eterne, whilom, was it shape, 
That fro the fifth cercle, in no manere, 
Ne might of teares doune escape, 
But now so weepeth Venus in her sphere, 
That with her teares she wol drench us here. 
Alas, Scogan, this is for thine offence, 
Thou causest this deluge of pestilence. 

Hast thou not said, in blaspheme of the goddis. 
Through pride, or through thy gret rekelues, 
Such things as in the law_of love forbode is, 
That for thy lady saw not thy distresse, 
Therfore thou yave her up at Mighelmesse ? 
Alas, Scogan, of olde folke ne yong, 
Was never erst Scogan blamed for his tong. 

Thou drew in scorne Cupide eke to record, 
Of thilke rebell word that thou hast spoken, 
For which he woll no lenger be thy lord, 
And Scogan, though his bow be not broken, 
He woll not with his arowes be ywroken 
On thee ne me, ne none of our figure. 
We shall of him have neither hurte ne cure. 

Now certes, frend, I drede of thine unhape, 
Lest for thy gilte the wreche of love procede 
On all hem that been hore and round of shape. 
That be so likely folke to spede, 
Than we shall of our labour have our mede, 
But well I wot, thou wolt answere and say, 
Lo, old Grisell list to renne and play. 



MINOR POEMS. 



601 



Nay, Scogan, say not so, for I me excuse, 
God helpe me so, in no rime doubties, 
Ne thinke I never of sleepe wake my muse, 
That rusteth in my sheath still in pees, 
While I was yong I put her forth in prees, 
But all shall passe that men prose or rime, 
Take every man his tourne as for his time. 

Scogan, thou knelest at the stremes hedde 
Of grace, of all honour, and of worthiness, 
In th'ende of which I am dull as dedde, 
lorgotten in solitary wildernesse, 
let, Scogan, thinke on Tullius' kindness, 
Mind thy frende there it may fructilie, 
Farewel, and looke thou never eft love defie. 



TO HIS EMPTY PURSE. 

To you, my purse, and to none other wight 

Complaine I, for ye be my lady dere, 

1 am sorry now that ye be light, 

For, certes, ye now make me heavy chore. 

Me were as lefe laid upon a here, 

For which unto your mercy thus I crie, 

Be heavy againe, or els mote I die. 

Now vouchsafe this day or it be night, 
That I of you the blissful sowne may here. 
Or see your colour like the Sunne bright. 
That of yelowness had never pere. 
Ye be my life, ye be my hertes stere, 
Queene of comfort and of good companie. 
Be heavy againe, or els mote I die. 

Now purse, that art to me my lives light, 
And saviour, as downe in this world here. 
Out of this towne helpe me by your might* 
Sith that you woU not be my treasure, 
For I am shave as nere as any frere, 
But I pray unto your curtesie, 
Be heavy againe, or els mote I die. 



602 TEE CANTERBURY TALES. 



A BALLAD 

MADE BY CHAUCER, TEACHING WHAT IS GENTILNESS, OR 
WHOM IS WORTHY TO BE CALLED GENTILL. 

The first stocke father of gentilnes, 

What man desireth gentil for to bee, 

Must followe his trace, and all his wittes dres 

Vertue to love and vices for to flee, 

For unto vertue longeth dignitee, 

And not the revers falsly, dare I deme, 

All weare he miter, crowne, or diademeo 

This first stocke was full of rightwisnes, 
Trewe of his worde, sober, pitous and free^ 
Clene of his goste, and loved besinesse. 
Against the vice of slouth in honeste, 
And, but his heirc love vertue as did he, 
He is not gentillp though he rich seme, 
All weare ho miter, crowne, or diademe. 

Viceste may well be heir to old richesse, 

But there may no man, as men may wel 39e, 

Bequethe his heire his virtues noblenesse, 

That is appropried unto no degree, 

But to tho first father in majestee, 

That maketh his heires them that him quemo 

All weare he miter, crowne, or diademe. 



PROVERBES 

AGAINST COVETISE AND NEGLIGENCB. 

What shall these clothes manifold, 
Lo, this hote somers day ? 
After great heat commeth cold. 
No man cast his pilche away. 
Of al this world the large compasse 
It will not in mine amies twaine ; 
Who so mokel woll embrace, 
Idtel thereof he shall distraine. 



MINOR POEMS. 603 



CHAUCER'S WORDS UNTO HIS OWN SCRIVENER, 

Adam Scrivener, if ever it thee befall 

Boece or Troilus for to write new, 

Under thy long locks thou maist have the scalJ 

But after my making thou write more trew, 

So oft a day I mote thy werke renew, 

It to correct and eke to rubbe and scrape, 

And all is thorow thy negligence and rape. 



VIRELAI. 



Aloxe walking, 

In thought plaining, 

And sore sighing, 

All desolate : 

Me remembring 

Of my living. 

My death wishing, 

Both early and late t 

Infortunate 

Is so my fate 

That wote ye what ? 

Out of measure. 

My life I hate : 
Thus desperate 
In such poor estate 

Do I endure. 

Of other cure 
Am I not sure 
Thus to endure 

Is hard certain. 

Such is my ure, 
I you ensure, 
What creature 

May have more pain ? 



604 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 



My truth so plain 
Is taken in vain, 
And great disdain 

In remembraunce. 

Yet I full fain, 
Would me complain. 
Me to abstain 

From this penaunce. 

But in substaunce, 
None allegeaunce 
Of my grevaunce 

Can I not find. 

Right so my chaunce 
With displesaunce 
Doth me avaunce, 

And thus an end. 



GLOSSARY. 



A, interj. ah ! 

Abahrht, part. pa. (A.N.), abashed, 

aabamed. 
Abate, V. (A.x.), to beat down. 

Ahcyge, abeye, able, v. (A.S.), to suffer 
for. 

Abet. n. (A.s.), help. 

Abyde, v. (A.s.), to stay ; abyden, part, 
pa. ; abit, abideth. 

Able, adj. (a.x.), tit, capable. 

A bough fe, part. pa. of abegge. 

Abouten, prep. (A.s.), about. 

Abrayde, v. (A.s.), to awake ; to start. 
See Braide. 

Abrigge, v. (a.n.) to shorten, to abridge. 

Abroche, v. (A.N-) to tap, to set abroach. 

Abusioun, n. (A.N.), abuse, impropriety. 

Accidie, n. (A.x., from axTj^ta, Gr.), neg- 
ligence ; arising from discoutent, mel- 
ancholy, &c. 

Acate, w. (A.N.), purchase. 

Achd.tour, n. (A.N.), a purchaser; a ca- 
terer. 

Acomberd, part. pa. (A.N.), encumbered. 

Acord, n. (A.N.), agreement ; to agree. 

Adawe, v. (A.s.), to awake. 

Ado, V, (A.S.), to do. To have ado, to 
have to do. 

Adoun, adv. (A.s.), downward, below. 

Adrad, part. pa. of adrede, v. (A.s.), 
afraid. 

AdventayJe, see Aventayle. 

Advertence, n. (A.K.), attention. 

Advocns, n. pi. (A.N.), lawyers, advo- 
cates. 

A/ered, a/erde, part. pa. (a.s.), afraid, 
frightened. 

Afenned, part. pa. (a.x.), confirmed. 

Afye, V. (A.N.), to trust. 

Atfraye, v. (A.N.), to frighten. 

Affrdy, n. (A.N.), disturbance, fear. 

AJf'yle, V. (A.N.), to lile, polish. 

Aforeii, a/orne, afore, adj. and prep. 
"(A..S.), before. 

AgaiiiA, agein, prep, (a.s.), against, to- 
ward. 

A(j'is/e, V. (A.S.), to terrify ; agasf, part, 
pa., terrified. 

Agilt, V. (A.S.), to offend, to sin against ; 
agilte, pa. t., sinned. 

Agrege, v. (A.N.), to aggravate. 

Ayri'sc, v. (A.S.), to shudder, to make to 
shudder. 

Agruted, part, pa., cloved, surfeited. 

Akiiowe, (A.B.), to coniesa. 



Alther, alter, gen. ca. pi., of all ; fre- 
quently joined in composition with ad- 
jectives of the superlative degree. Al- 
ther-first, altlu-r-to,st, alther-levest, tir^t, 
last, dearest of all. 

Alaunz, n. pi. (a.n.), a species of dog. 

Alaye, n. (A.N.), allay ; a mixture of 
base metal. 

Albijicatioii, n. (Lat.), a chemical term 
for making white. 

Alcaly, n. (Arab.), a chemical term for a 
species of salt. 

Alchymistre, n. (A.x.), alchymist. 

Aldrian, pr. n., a star on the neck of the 
lion. 

Alembikegj n. pi. (Fr.), vessels for distil- 
ling ; stills. 

Aleye, n, (A.x.), an alley. 

Algates, algate, a,dv. (A.s.), always; al- 
though. 

Allegge, v. (A.x.), to allege. 

Almesse, n. (A.s., from eleemosyna), 
alms ; almesses, pi. 

Alnafh. pr. n., the first star in the horns 
of Aries, whence the first mansion of 
the moon takes its name. 

Along, prep. (A.s.). Whereon it was 
along, by what it was occasioned ; on 
me is nought along thine evil fare, thy 
ill fare is" not occasioned by me. 

Alone, V. (A.N.), to allow, to approve. 
His dedes are to alowe for his hardy- 
nesse. Therefore lords alow him litle, 
or lysten to his reason. 

Alowe. adv. (A.s.). low. 

Als, conj. (A.S.), also, as. 

Amalgaming , a chemical term for mix- 
ing of quicksilver with any metal. 

Ambassatrye, n. (A.x.), embassy. 

Ambes aas, (A.x.), two aces, at dice. 

Amende, v. (A.x.), to mend. 

Amenuse, v. (A.x.), to lessen. 

Amevyd, part. pa. (A.x.), moved, 

Amyddes, prep. (A.s.), at or in the mid- 
dle. 

Amoneste, v. (A.x.), to admonish, to ad- 
vise. 

Amortined, part. pa. (A.x.), killed. 

A rnorwe, on the morrow. 

An, for on, prep. 

And, conJ. (A.s.), often used for if. 

Aiulas, n. (A.x'), a dagger, or wood- 
knife. 

Anefi^ adv. for ones, once. 

Anhony, v. (A.s.), to hang up. 

(6C6) 



<]m 



GLOSSARY. 



Anker, n. (a,«.). an anchorite or hermit. 

AnnuelUr, n. (A,N.), secular. 

Annuncint, port. pa. (Lat.)> foretold. 

Jnnoiies, u. pi. (A.N.), annoyances, 
troubles. 

Annoye, an(nj€, anuye, v. (A.N.), to hurt, 
to trouble.' 

Anslets, p. (A.n.), an article of dress, ap- 
parently breeches. 

Antiphonere, n., a book of antiphones, or 
anthems. 

An felt, n. (A.S.), an anvil. 

Apaijde, part. pa. (A.N.), paid, satisfied. 

Apri/re, v. (A.N.), to impair, to detract 
from. 

Apert, adj. (A.n."), open, in public. 

Apitalled, part. pa. (A.N.), made pale. 

Apparaile, v. (A.N.), to prepare. 

A))pan'nce, n. (A.N.), an appearance. 

Aj)]>(irccyiie, v. (A.N.), to perceive. 

Aj)p<irceyvynge!^. n. pi., perceptions. 

Api>ose, V. (A.N.), to object to, to ques- 
tion. 

Ai)prorour, n. (A.N.), an informer. 

Aqueintable, adj. (A.N.), easy to be ac- 
quainted with. 

AijuUe, V. (A.N.), to pay for. 

Arace, v. (a,n.), to draw away by force. 

Arraye, v. (A.N.), to dress, to dispose. 

Arclwti'yves, wives of a superior order. 

Aniiirel n. (A.x.), burning. 

Arede, v. (A.N.), to interpret. 

Arrerage, n. (A.N.), arrear. 

Areyxe, v. (A s.), to raise. 

Atvest, n. (A.N.), constraint, delay 

Aresie, v. (A.N.), to stop. 

Arette, v. (A.N.), to impute to. 

Argoil, n. (A.N.), potter's clay. 

Arrwage, n. (a.n.), arrival. 

Arke, n., a part of the circumference of 
c circle. 

Arm-gret, adj. (A.S.), as thick as a man's 
ann. 

Armipofcnt, adj., mighty in arms. 

Ai-mure, n. (a.n.), armor. 

Am, pi. n. of am, v. (a.s.), are. 

Arsmetrike, n., arithmetic. 

Artelrics, n. pi. (a.n.), artillery. 

Artmn, for art thou 

Anre, n. (A-S.). an arrow. 

Aacaunce, as tnough, as if. as if to say. 

ARSchen, n. pi. (a.s.), ashes. 

Aslnke, v. (A.S.), to slacken, to abate. 

A.yi, n. (A.S.), a sort of poplar. 

Aspen, adj., of an asp. 

Aspie, v. (A.N.), to espie. 

Assaut, n. (a.n.), assault. 

Ai^aoile, v. (a.n.), to absolve, to answer. 

As/aaf, n. (A.N.), estate, state. 

Asterte, v. (A. 8-), to escape, to release. 

Astoneyd, part. pa. (a.n.), confounded, 
astonished. 

Astryhtbe, n. (A.N.), the astrolabe, an 
astronomical instrument. 

Asirologien, n. (A.N.), astrologer. 

Astvoune, in a swoon. 



Atte, prep. (A.s.), at the. 

Atake, v. (A.s.), to overtake. 

Attained, part. pa. (a.n.), opened, begun. 

Attempre, adj. (a.n.), temperate. 

Attemprely, adv. (a.n.), temperately. 

Attry, atterly, adj. (A.s.), poisonous, per- 
nicious. 

A-twynne, in two, asunder. 

Avale, V. (a.n.), to lower, to let down, to 
go down. 

Avaunce, v. (a.n.), to advance, to profit. 

Avaanie, v. (a.n.), to boast. 

Avaunt, adv. (a.n.), forward. 

Auctorit^, n. (a.n.), a text of Scripture, 
or of some respectable writer. 

Auctour, n. (a.n.), aut,hor. 

Avenaunt, adj. (a.n.), becoming. 

Aventayle, n. (a.n.), a part of the i^el- 
met. 

Aventure, n. (a.n.), adventure, chance. 

Atigrym, a corruption of algorithm, or 
arithmetic. 

Avis, n. (A.N.), advice, opinion. 

Aoyse, v. (a.n.), to observe ; look to. 

Aviso un, n. (a.n ), a vision. 

Aimtre, v. (a.n.), corruption of aven- 
ture; to adventure: auntrous, adj., 
adventurous. 

Avouterer, avoutrer, n. (A.N.), an adul- 
terer. 

Avoutrie, n. (a.n.), adultery. 

Avow, n. (A.N.), a vow. 

Auter, n. (a.n.), an altar. 

Awayte, n. (a.n.), watch. 

Aivaytand, part, pr., watching. 

Away-rcard, adv. (a.s.), away. 

Awreke, v. (a.n.), to revenge, 

Ajce, V. (A.S.), to ask : axyng, request, 
asking. 

Aye, adv. (A.s.), ever. 

Ay el, u. (A.N.), grandfather. 

Ba, seems to be formed from basse, t. 

(A.N.), to kiss. 
Bacheler, n. (An.), an unmarried man ; 

a knight ; one who has taken his first 

degree in a university. 
Bachelerie, n. (A.n.), knighthood; the 

bachelerie, the knights. 
Bade, pa. t. of bede. 
Bndder, comp. d. of bad, adj., worse. 
Baite, V. (A.S.), to feed, to stop to feed. 
Bale, n. (A.s.), mischief, sorrow. 
Balkes, n. pi. (a.s.), the timbers of the 

roof. 
Ballid, adj., smooth as a ball, bald. 
Bane, n. (A.s.), destruction. 
Barme, n. (a.s.), the lap, bosom. 
Barm-cloth, an apron. 
Bareigne, adj. (A.s.), barren. 
Bathe, for bothe. 
Bauderie, baudrie, n., pimping, keeping 

a bawdy-house. 
Bawlii, adj., dirty. 
Bayard, pr. n. (A.N,), a bay-horse ; a 

liozse in general. 



GLOSSARY. 



607 



Bekkcy V. (A.N.), to nod. 

Bede, v. (A.s.), to order, to bid ; to offer ; 

to pray. 
Btdrtil, adj. (A.s.). confined to bed. 
Been, n. pi. (A.s.), bees, 
Beeie, v. (8ax.), to prepare, make ready ; 

to heetej'yres, to make tires ; to mend ; 

to heal : fo beefe nettys, lo mend nets. 
Iie(/o)i, part. pa. (A.s.), gone : 7vel began, 

in a good way ; wo beyon, far gone in 

woe. 
Bcgonne, part. pa. (A.s.), begun. 
Bti amy, (a.n.), good friend. 
Belle, clieie, (A.>'.),good cheer. 
Bele chose, (a.n.), literally, beautiful 

thing 
Belys, bely, n. (A.S.), bellows. 
Bemes, n. pi. (A.s.), tiumpets. 
Ben, inf. m. (A.s.), to be ; pr. t pi., are ; 

pai't, pa., been. 
Bending, n., stri|)ing ; making of bands 

or stripes. 
B'me, n. (A.s.), a bean. 
Benedicite, (Lat.), bless us ! 
Denigne, adj. (A.x.), kind. 
Benlme, v. (A.s.), to take away. 
Benesoun, n. (A.x,), benediction. 
Bent, n. (A.S.), the bending or declivity 

of a hill. 
Berd, n. (A.s.), beard. 
Bere, n. (A.s.), a bear. 
Bere, v. (A.s.), to bear, to carry : to here 

in or 07? Jimid, to accuse falsely ; to 

persuade falsely : to bere the belle, to 

carry the prize. 
Bere, n. (.■v.s.), abler 
Bering, n. (A.s.), behavior, bearing. 
Berme, n. (A.s.), yeast. 
Berne, n. (A.s.), a barn. 
Beseke, v. (a.s ). to beseech. 
Beste, n. (A.x.), a beast. 
Bet, adv. comp. for better. 
Beteche, v., a.s betake. 
Beth, imperat., be ye. 
Beye, v. (A.s.). to buy. 
Bibbed, part. pa. (Lat.), drunk. 
Bible, n. (A.N). any great book. 
Bi-bled, part. pa. (A.s.), covered with 

blood. 
JUcchel bones, dice. 
Byclappe, v. (A.s.), to catch. 
Bydnffed, part. pa. (a.s.), made a fool of. 
Bifdde, v., as bede. 
Bifille, v. (.■v.s.), befel. 
Biforen, biforne, adv. and prep. (A.s.), 

before. 
Byforn, (A.s.), before. 
Bi/giled, part. pa. (A.N), beguiled. 
Bigon, see hcgmi. 
Bygynne, v. (A.s.), to begin. 
Byheste, n. (a.s.), a promise 
Byhighte, v. (a.s.), to promise. 
Byhote, v. (A.s.), to promise. 
Byjaped, part. pa. (A.s.), tricked, laughed 

at. 
Byknoive, v. (A.s.)- to confess. 



Bileeve, n. (A.s.), belief, creed. 

Bylece, v. (A.s.), to stay. 

Bille, n., a letter. 

Byrrt/t, part. pa. of byreve, v. (A.s.), be- 
reaved, taken away. 

Byschrewe, v. (A.s.). to curse. 

Byaet, part. pa. (A.s.), placed, employed. 

Byseye, part. pa. of besce, v. (Sax.), be- 
seen • die byseye, ill beseen, of a bad 
appearance (1. 8841) ; richely biseye, of 
a rich appearance (1. 88G0). 

Biside, prep. (A.s.), by the side of. 

Bysmoterud, part. pa. (A.s.), smutted. 

Bissemare, n. (A.s.), abusive speech. 

Bystad, part. pa. (A.s.), situated, bested. 

Byt, for biddeth. 

Bytake, v. (A.s.), to give, deliver; to 
recommend to : by taught, pa. t., rec- 
ommended to. 

Bytid, happened. 

Bytoke, pa. t. of bytake, recommended. 

Lyfonre. n. (A.x.), a bittern. 

Bytraised, part. pa. (A-x.), betrayed. 

Byfirixe, prep. (A.s.), between. 

Byicreye, v. (A.s.), to discover. 

Buye, V. (A.s.), to suffer ; see abegge. 

Blend, v. (A.s.), to blind, to deceive. 

Blent, part., blinded, deceived. 

Bleynte. pa. t. of blench, v. (A.s.), shrunk, 
started aside. 

Blered, part. pa. (A.s.), in its common 
sense, is used to describe a particular 
disorder of the eye, attended with 
soreness and dimness of sight ; but 
more commonly, in ( "liaucer, a man's 
eye issaidtobeblerei], nietaphorioally, 
when he is any way imposed upon. 

Blynne, v. (A.s.), to cease. 

Blyve, adv (A.s.), quickly. 

Blosme, blosseme, n. (A.s.). blossom ; v. 
to blossom. 

Blossemy, adj., full of blossoms. 

Bobaunce, n. (A.x.), boasting. 

Bode, bodtn, part., bidden, commanded. 

Boydekyn, n. (A.s.), a dagger. 

Boiste, n. (A.x.), a box 

Boistous, adj. (A.s.), boisterous, rough. 

Boistrously, adv., ronghly. 

Bokeler, n. (a.n.), a buckler. 

Bokelyng, part. pr. (a.x.), buckling. 

Boket, n. (A.s.), a bucket. 

Bolt, n. (A.S.). an arrow : bolt upright, 
straight as an arrow. 

Bonairete, n., for debonairete. 

Boone, n. (a.s.), a boon, petition ; he bad 
hem alle a boone, he asked them all a 
boon. 

Boras, n. (a.n.), borax. 

Boord, bord, n. (Fr,), board ; the deck of 
a ship ; a table. 

Bordel, n. (a.n ), a brothel : bordel iro- 
irten , whores. 

Borel, n. (a.n.), coarse cloth of a brown 
color; adj. made of plain «oarseiJtuflf; 
hnrelfolk, borel ni'V, laymen. 

Borive^Ti. (A.s.), a pledp;e. 



60^ 



GLossAnr. 



Bnsarrf, 11. (A.N.), a buzzard, a species 
of hawk unfit for sporting. 

/in.<;, 11. (A.N.), a protuberance. 

/ions(, n. (A.s.), pride, boasting. 

liDoAt, adv., aloud. 

Jlonte, bote, u. (A. 8.), remedy, help, prof- 
it ; v., to help. 

Jloote. bit. 

Hotel, boteJle, n. (A.K.), bottle. 

liothe, adj. (A. s.), two together : our 
hot he labour, the labor of us two to- 
gether. 

J>onk, II. (A.S.), the body. 

Iloiilfe, V. (A.S.). to sift, to separate the 
Hour of wheat from the bran. 

/>oim, adj. (A.S.), ready. 

Jioiintt'', n. (A.N.). goodness. 

Bonnie, 11. (A.N.), a jest ; v., to jest. 

Jioure, 11. (A.S.), a chamber, 

Hvacer, n. (A.N.), armor for the arm. 

Brtiydc, 11. (A.S.), a start; v., to awake, 
to start ; to take off. 

Brngat. n. (Welsh), a sweet drink made 
of the wort of ale, honey, and spice, 
taid to be still in use in Wales. 

Brasil, n., a wood used in dyeing, to give 
a red color. 

Bratt, n. (A.s.), a coarse mantle. 

Jirech, n. (A.S.), breeches. 

Brcrde, n. (A.S.), breadth. 

Breeme, adv. (A.S.), furiously. 

Jlrcnnc, v. (A.S.), to burn ; brenden, they 
burnt ; brent, burnt. 

Brennynghj, adv., hotly. 

Breves, Ta. pi. (a.n.), briars. 

Bret-ful, adj., top-full. 

Briben, v. (A.N.), to beg, or perhaps to 
steal. 

Brihours, bribers. 

Bridale, n. (a.s.), a marriage-feast. 

Brithles, n. pi. (A.s.), birds. 

Brike, n. (A.s-), breach, ruin. 

Brocage, n. (a.n.), a treaty by a broker or 
agent. 

Brock, n. (Fr.), a brooch, or clasp. It 
probably came by degrees to signify 
any sort of jewel. 

Broiodid, part, pa, (A.N.), braided, woven. 

Bronde, n. (A.X.), a torch. 

Brosten, burst. 

Brotherhed, n. (A. 8.), brotherly affection. 

Browded, i)art. pa. (A.N.) ; brode, em- 
broidered. 

Broaken, inf. m. (A.S.), to brook, to en- 
joy, use. 

Brutil, adj. (A. 8.), brittle. 

Hrutehiesse, n., brittleness. 

Bukkes horn, a buck's horn. To bloto the 
biickes hfirne is used to signify any use- 
less employment. 

Bnffette, n. (A.N.), a blow. 

Bumble, t. (a.s.), to make a humming 
noise. In 1, 6554 it is used to describe 
the noise made by a bittern. 

Burdoun, n. (a.n.), a humming noiae, Uje 
basa in music. 



Buriels, n. pi. (a.s.), burying-placos. 
Burned, pnrt. pa, (a.n,), burnished. 
But, couj. and prep, (a.s.), means not 
only but, or unless, but only, and with- 
out. 
Buxome, adj. (a.s.), obedient, civil, bend- 
ing. 
Buxomly, adv. (A.s.), obediently. 
By, prep. (Sax,), has sometimes the sig- 
iiitication of in. By the morioe, in the 
morning, or day-time. It is sometimes 
used adverbially. By and by, near, 
hard by ; severally, distinctly, 

Caas, n. (A.N.), a case, quiver. 

Cacche, v, (a,s.), to catch. 

Cadence, n. (a,n.), a species of poetical 
composition distinct from rhyming 
verses. 

Caytif, n, and adj. (a.n.), a wretch, 
wretched ; coward. 

Calcinacloun, ii. (a.n.), a chemical pro- 
cess, by which bodies are reduced to a 
calx. 

Calculed, pa t. (a.n.), calculated. 

Calle, n. (a.n,), a species of cap. 

Camois, adj. (a.n.), flat-nosed. 

Camploun, u.(a.s.), a champion, fighting 
man. 

Can, V. (A.S.), knows. 

Canevas, n. (a.n.), canvas. 

Canon, the title of Avicenue's great work. 

Cantel, n. (A.s.), a fragment, part. 

Capel, n. (A.N.), a horse. 

Capitaine, n. (a.n.), a captain. 

Capitolie, n., the Capitol at tlome, 

Carayn, n. (a.n.), carrion. 

Cardiacle, n., a pain about the heart. 

Car/, pa, t, (a,s.), cut, 

Carl, n. (A.8.), a churl, a hardy country 
fellow. 

Carole, n. (A.N,), a dance ; v,, to dance. 

Carpe, v, (A,s.), to talk. 

Caroigne, n, (A.N), carnon, deader putri- 
tied flesh. 

Carrik, n. (A.N.), a large ship. 

Cart, n. (a.s.), a chariot. 

Carter, n., a charioteer. 

Cas, n. (A.N,), chance. 

Cast, n. (A.s,), a coiurivance. 

Caste, V,, to contrive, 

Casuel, adj. (a,n.), accidental, 

Catapuce, n. (A.N,), a species of spurge. 

Cated, n. (a.n.), goods, 

Catenornwed , to gon a caterv)rained seems 
to signify the same as to go caterwawl- 
ing, as it is called in modern times. 

Cavil laciour), n. (A-N.), cavil. 

Celerer, h., the othcer in a monastery 
who had the care of the provisions. 

Celle, n., a religious house. 

Censing, part, pr., fumigating with in- 
cense, 

Centaurie, n., a herb. 

Cerlal, adj, (A.N.), belonging lo a specie* 
of oaii. 



GL0S8ABY, 



609 



€kruee, n. (A.K.), white load. 

Chaffare, n. (A.S.). merchandise ; v., to 
merchandise, to talk loosely. 

Chalonns, blankets, or coverlets, made 
at Chalons. 

Chamayle, u. (a-n.), a camel 

Chamberere, n. (a.n.), a chambermaid. 

Champnrtye, n. (A.x.), a share of land, a 
partnership in power. 

Chapman, n. (A..S.), a merchant or trader. 

Chapmanhede, n. (A.s.j, the condition of 
a chapman, or tradesman. 

Chare, n. (a.n-), a chariot 

Charge, n. (a.n.), a load, burthen, busi- 
ness of weight: U mere no charge, it 
were no harm ; of ichich there is no 
charf/e, from which there is no conse- 
quence to be expected ; of that no 
charge, no matter for that. 

Chargeant, part., burthensome. 

Chek'e.re, n. (A.N.). a ehess-board. 

Chekelatoun, a corruption of ciolaton 
(from the Arabic), a rich cloth of gold. 

Chepe, V. (A.S.), to buy, to merchandise, 
to cheapen. 

Chepe, n., cheapness 

Cherl, n. (a.s-), a man of mean birth and 
condition. 

Cherlish, adj., churlish. 

Ches, pa. t., chose. 

Ches, n. (a.n.). the game of chess. 

Chese, v. (a.s.), to choose. 

Chest, n. (a.n.), a coffin. 

Cheste, n. (a.s.), debate. 

Chesteijn n. (a.n.), the chestnut. 

Cheve,' v. (a.n.\ to come to an agree- 
ment, or conclusion. 

Cheventen, n. (A.N ), cliieftain. 

Chevisaunce, n. (A.N ), an agreement for 
borrowing of money. 

Chldester, u. (a.s.). a female scold- 

Chiereti, n. (a.n.), tenderness, allection. 

Chv7nhe,n. (A.S.), the prominent part of 
the staves beyond the head of a barrel. 

Chiinbe. v , to sound in consonance, like 
bells, to chime. 

Chirche-reve, n. (A.S.), a church-warden. 

Chirchhaice, n. (a. 8.), a churchyard. 

Chirkc, V (a.s.\ to chirp, as a sparrow. 

Chlrkvnq, n., a chirping sound. 

Chit, chideth. 

Chirachie, n. (A.N.), a military expedi- 
tion. 

Chi/valrye, n. (A.N.), knighthood. 

Cite, n. (A.N.), a city. 

Citole, n. (A.N.), a musical instrument. 

Cgtrgnfi, adj. (a.n.), of a pale yellow or 
citron color. 

Citrinatimin, n., a chemical term. 

Ciappe, V. (A.S.), to knock repeatedly, to 

' talk fast. 

Clapsuil, clasped. 

Clarr^, n. (A.N,^ wine mixed with lioney 
and siiices, and afterwards strained till 
it is clear. It was otherwise called 
piiueut. 



Clatereden, pa. t. pi. of clatter. 
Claw, V. (A.8.), to stroke, to rub. 
Clennesse, n. (a.s.), purity. 
Clepe, V. (A.S.), to call, to name. 
Clergie, n. (A.N.),tho clerical profession 
Clergial, adj., learned. 
Clergion, n., a young clerk. 
Clerk, n. (a.n.), one who has received 

school learning. 
Cllfte, n. (A.S.), a cleft. 
Cliket, n. (A-^'-)» a latch-key. 
Clinke, V. (a.n.), a ring, to tinkle. 
Clippe, V. (A.S.), to cut hair ; toeml.iac.^ 
Clobbed, adj. (a.s.), like a club. 
Cloyster, n. (a.n.), a cloister, an enclos* 

ure. 
Clote-lefe, a leaf of the burdock, or clofce- 

bur. 
Clotered, part. pa. (A.s.), clotted. 
Cloules, n. pi. (A.s.), small pieces. 
Clum, this word seems to be equivalent 

to " silence." 
Clumben, pa. t. pi. of climb. 
Coagulat, part. pa. (Lat.), curdled. 
Qjc'kes bones, a corruption of a then 

familiar oath, God's bones. 
Cod, n. (A.S.), a bag. 
Cofre, n, (A.N.), a chest. 
Coilons, n. pi. (a.n.), testicles. 
Coke, n., a cook. 
Cokemui, a diminutive cock, a puny. 

weakly fellow. 
Cokewold, n., a cuckold. 
Col in composition is used in a bad 

sense, as colprophet, a false, lying 

prophet. 
Colde, V. (A.S.), to grow or become cold. 
Coler, n. (.\.N.), a collar. 
Colerd, part. pa. collared, wearing col- 
lars. 
Collacimm, n. (A.N.), a conference. 
Coltissch, adj. (.\.s.), playful as a colt. 
Columbine, adj. (Lat.), l)elonging to a 

dove, dovelike 
Combust, adj. (Lat.), burnt. A term in 

astrology, when a planet is not more 

than 8" 30' distant from the sun. 
Commune, n. (a.n.), commonalty ; com- 
munes, n. pi., commoners, common 

people. 
Compaignable. adj. (A.N.), sociable. 
Compame for cnmpngne, 1. 3709. Put for 

the sake of the rhyme. 
Compas. n. (a.n.), a compass. 
Compassing, n., a contrivance. 
Compnsse, V., to contrive. 
Comperi, n. (a.n.), a gossip, a neai 

friend. 
Complin, complyng, n. (a.n.), evensong, 

the last service of the day, singing in 

general. 
Conilescende, v (A.n.), to yield. 
Conffcture, n. (A.N.). composition. 
Con'fas, adj., (a.n.), confounded. 
Conjure, v. (A.N.), to adjure. 
Ctmne, v. (a.s.), to know, to be able. 



610 



GLOSSARY. 



Conseil, n. (a.n.), counsel. 

Consentant, part, pr., consenting to. 

Conserve, v. (a.n.) topret^erve. 

Covsistory, n. (A.N.), properly an eccle- 
siastical court, but sometimes any 
court of justice. 

Contek, n. (a.s.), contention. 

Countemiunce, n. (a.m.), apjiearauce, pre- 
tence. 

Contract, part. pa. (Lat.), contracted. 

Contrarie, v. (a.n.), to contradict. 

Contrarious, adj. (A.N.), opposite, per- 
verse. 

Contrary, n. (A.N.), adversary. 

Contrefete, v. (a.n.), to counterfeit, imi- 
tate. 

Contubemial, adj. (Lat.), familiar. 

Cope, n. (A.N.), a cloak. 

Cop, n. (a.s.), the top of any thing ; the 
head. 

Corage, n. (AN.), heart, inclination, 
spirit, courage. 

Cordewane, n. (A.n.), Spanish leather, so 
called from (Jorduba. 

Corniculere, n. (Lat.i, an officer iu the 
Roman government 

Cornmuse, n. (A.N ), a bagpii>e. 

Corny, adj. (A.s.), strong of the corn, or 
malt. 

Cor<me, n. (a.n.), a crown, orgarlaud. 

Corps, n. (A.N.). body. 

Corpus, n. (I.at.), body. 

Conimpable, a<lj. (a.n.). corruptible. 

Coruwpe, v. (A.N.), to corrupt.. 

Corven, part. pa. of carve, cut. 

Cosyn. V. (an.\ a co\i.^in. 

Cosinage, n- (a.n.), kindred. 

Costag'e, n. (A.N.), cost, expense. 

Costlewe, adj., costly. 

Cote, n. (A.S.), a cottage. 

Cote, n. (A.N.), a coat. 

Cotidien, adj. (A.N.), daily 

Coiiche, V. (A.N.). to lay ; couched, part- 
pa., laid : couched with perles, la^d, or 
trimmed with pearls. 

Cowde, pa. i. of co7ut,e, (A.s.) knew, was 
able. 

Core liable, adj. (A.N.), convenient, suit- 
able. 

Covert, adj. (A.N.), secret, covered. 

Coryiie, n. (a.n.), secret contrivauce. 

Coulpe, n. (A.N.), a fault. 

Counterwayte, v. (A.N.), to watch 
afrainst. 

Conntour, n. (A.N.), a counting-house ; 
an arithmetician. 

Conntretdille, n. (A.N.), a tally answer- 
ing exactly to another. Hence echo 
is said to answer at the conntrctaillf. 

Ci^iirtepy. a short cloak of coarse cloth. 

Court-man, a courtier. 

Couthe. pa. t. of cimne, knew, was able ; 
part, pa., known. 

Crakke, v. (a.n.), to crack. 

Crake, v. (A.B.), Ut quaver Licarsely Iu 
eiugiug. 



Craechyng, n. (A.s.), scratching. 
Crased, part. pa. (a.n.), broken. 
Creaunce, n. .^A .N.), faith, belief ; v., to 

borrow money. 
Crevasse, n. (a.'n.), a chink or crevice. 
Crisp, adj. (a.n.), curled. 
Croce, n., a cross. 
Crois, n. (A.N.), a cross. 
Cromes, n. pi. (A.S.), crumbs. 
Crone, n. (A.s.), an old woman. 
Crope, cropen, part. pa. of crepe, crept. 
Crojtjjes, n. pi. (A.S.). the extremities of 

the shoots of vegetables ; 7iow in tha 

crop, now ai the top ; croppe and rote, 

root and branch, the whole of a thing! 
Crosselef, n. (A.N.), a crucible. 
Croiiche, v, (A.s.), to sign with the cross. 
Crowde, v. (A.S.), to shove together. 
Crouke, n. (A.S.), an earthen |iitcher. 
Croun, n. (A.N.), the crown of the head. 
Croupr. n. (A.N.), the crupper. 
C7-ul, adj. (A.S.), curled. 
Cucnrbite, n. (Lat.). a gourd, a vessel 

shaped lik« a gourd, used in distil la^ 

tion. 
Cuirhouly, n. (an.), leather prep;ired by 

boiling, used in making a variety of 

articles. 
Ouljxnis, n. pi. (A.N.), .«hred8, logs. 
Curious, adj. (a.n.), careful. 
Curleys, adj. (a.n.), courteous. 

Dnt', n. (A.S.), a fool. 

iJagged, part, pa., cut into slips. 

Dagghig, n., slitting, cutting into slips. 

Da'gnmi, n., a slip, or piece. 

Dampne, v. (A.N.), to condemn. 

Dm. n. (Lat. dominus), lord, a title com- 
monly given to monks. 

Danger, n. (A.N.), a dangerous situation; 
in- a man's danger, under liability to 
him. 

Dangerous, adj., difficult. 

Dapple gray, the color which is called 
in Ft. pommel^. 

Dare, v. (A.S.), to stare. 

l)ereyne, v. (a.n.), to contest. 

Dart, n. (a.s.), a spear or javelin. 

Dase, v. (A.S.), togrow dimsighted. 

Daunte, v. (a.n.), to conquer, 

Dame, v. (A.S.), to dawn. 

Daicening, n. (A.s.), daybreak. 

Daices, n. pi. for Dayes. 

Debate, v. (a.n.). to light. 

Debonaire, adj. (a.n.). courteous, gentle 

Dedly, adj. (A.s.), devoted to deatii ; 
fatal. 

Deduit, n. (A.N.), pleasure. 

Deed, adj. (AS.), dead. 

Defame, n. (A.N.), infamy ; v., to roak« 
infamous. 

De/autcs, n. pi. (A.N.), defects. 

De/ende, v. (A.N.), to forbid. 

Defence, n. (A-N.), prohibition. 

Deuri n. (A.N.), a step. 

Demousy adj. (a.n.), diikiaiulul. 



GLOSSARY. 



611 



Deynte, n. (A.N.), value, a thing of 
value ; had deynte, valued highly ; 
to.de no dtynte of, set no value upon ; 
it teas deynte, it was a valuable thing. 
Deyntevous, adj., choice, valuable. 
Dcys, n. (A.X.), the place of the high 
table in the hall, the high table itself. 
Del, n. (A.S.), a part, bit. 
Dele,\. (A.S.), to divide. 

Delibere, v. (A.N.), to deliberate. 

Delices. n. pi. (A.N.), delights. 

Dellt, n. (A.N.), delight. 

Delitall-, adj. (a.n.), delectable. 

Delivery adj. (A.N.). nimble. 

Delirerly, adv., quickly. 

Delivenies, n., agility. 

Demaine, n. (a.n.), management. 

Deme, v. (A.S.), to judge. 

Departe, v. (a.n.), to part, to distribute. 

Depeini, part. pa. (a.n.), painted. 

Dere, v (A.s.), to hurt, 

Dere, adj. (A..S.), dear. 

Dereling, n., darling. 

Dereworih, adj. (A.s.), precious, valued 
at a high rate. 

Deme, atlj. (a.s-), secret. 

Derre, conip. of dere, dearer, 

Descensorie, n. (A.N.), a vessel used in 
chemistry for the extraction of oils 
per descensum. 

Descricen, v. (A.n.), to describe. 

Deairous, adj. (a.n.), eager. 

Despite, n. (a.n.), malicious anger. 

Desj/ttous, adj , angry to excess. 

Despitously, adv., angrily. 

Despolle, v. (A.N.), to undress. 

Destreyne, v. (A.N.), to vex, to constrain. 

Destrer. n. (A.N.), a war-horse. 

Destruye, v. (a-n.), to destroy. 

Del teles, adj., free from debt. 

Deve, adj (a.s.), deaf. 

Devynyny, n. (a.n.), divination. 

Devyse, n. (a.n.), direction; v., to direct, 
to order, to relate : at poynt devys, 
with the greatest exactness. 

Devoir, n. (A.x-), duty. 

Dey, n., a species of labor, perhaps a 
day-laborer. 

Deye, v. (A.s.), to die. 

Deyer, n. (A.s.), a dyer. 

Dide, pa. t. of do ■ diden, pi., did. 

Difaine, n. (a.n.), bad reputation. 

Dight, v. (A.S.), to dispose, to dress. 

Digue, adj. (A.N.), worthy, proud, dis- 
dainful. 

Dike, V. (Sax.), to dig, to make ditches. 

Dilatacumn, n. (a.n.), e^ilargement. 

Disarray, n (A.N.), disorder. 

Discomfort, n. (A.N.), displeasure, 

Discomforten, v. (a.n.), to discourage- 

Discovert e, adj. (A.N.), at discoverte, un- 
covered. 

Disfigure, n. (a.n.), deformity. 

Disherele, i)art. pa. (a.n.), with hair 
hanging loose. 

Disjoint, n. (a.n.), a difficult situation. 



Dislare, adj. (a.n.), filthy, impure. 
Disordeincd, part pa., disorderly. 
iJisordinate, adj., disorderly. 
Disparage, n., a disi)aragement. 
Dispence, n., expense. 
Dispilous, adj., angry to excess. 
Disport, n., sport, diversion. 
Disprelsing, part, pa., undervaluing. 
Disputisoun, n. (A.N-), dispute. 
Dissimule, v. (a.n.), to dissemble. 
Distreyne, n., to constrain. See Dea- 

treine. 
Distrouble, v., to disturb. 
Dyvynistre, n. (a.x.), a divine. 
Dogerel, a<ij., " derived," says Tyrwhitt, 
" I suppose, from dog ; so that rinie- 
dogerel may be understood to mean 
what in French might be called rime 
de cfiien. See Cotgrave in v. Chun. 
Chose de chien, a paultrie thing, a 
trifle, trash, trumperie." 
Doggefor the bowe, a dog used in shoot- 
ing. 
Do/ct, n. (A.S.), a duck. 
Dolven, part. pa. of (^eii'e, buried, digged. 
Domb, adj. (A.s.), dumb. 
Dome, doom, n. (a.s.), judgment, opinion. 
Domcsman,n. (.a.s.), a judge. 
Donet, n., a grammar ; the elements of 

any art. 
Donne, don, adj. (A.s.), of a brown or 

dun color. 
Doo7i, 3d p. pi. of the present, they do ; 

part, pa., done ; inf., to do. 
Dormant, part. pr. (Fr.), fixed : table 
dot-mant, 1. 355, a stationary table ia 
the hall, not one made for theoccasiort 
by placing a board on trestles. 
Dortour, n. (A.N.), a dormitory, or com- 
mon sleeping room. 
Doseyn, n. (a.n.), a dozen. 
Dote", V. (A.s-)> to be foolish, through aga 

or otherwise. 
Doth, do ye. 

Doughiren, n. pi. (A.s.), daughters. 
Doute, V. (A.N.), to fear. 
Douteles, adv., without doubt. 
Dowayre, n. (A.N.), dower. 
Dradde, drad, pa. t. and part, of drede, 

feared. 
Draf, n. (A.s.), things thrown away, as 
unfit for man's food : draf-sak, a sack 
full of draf. 
Drafty, adj., of no more value than 
. draf. 

Dragges, n. pL, drugs. 
Drede, n. (a.s.), fear, doubt : wiihouten 
drede, without doubt ; outof drede, out 
of doubt. 
Drede, v. (a.s.), to fear. 
Dredful, a :j., timorous. 
Dreynt, pa. t. and part, of drenche, 

drowned. 
Drenche, v. (a.s.), to drown ; v. neut.,to 

be drowned. 
Drease, v. (a.n.), to address, apply. 



612 



GLOSSARY. 



Dronkelewe, adj. (A.S.), given to drink. 

Dronke, drunk. 

Drough, pa. t. of dratc, drew. 

fJrovy, adj. (A.s.), dirty. 

Druerk, n. (A.K.), courtship, gallantry, 

love ; a mistress. 
Dmgge, v. (a.s.), to drag. 
Dubbed, part. pa. (A.s.), created , knight. 

The phrase is derived from the stroke, 

with a sword or otherwise, which was 

always a principal ceremony at the 

creation of a knight. 
Duete, n. (A.N.)> duty ; what is due to 

any one. 
Dulle, V. act. (A.s.), to make dull ; v. 

neut., to grow dull. 
Dure, V. (A.N.), to endure. 
Duske, pa. t. (A.s.), to grow dark, or 

dim. 
Dwale, n. (A.s.), a sleeping-potion. 

Ebrayk, adj., Hebrew. 

Eche, adj. (a.s.), each, every 

Effect, n. (A.N.), substance. 

Eft, adv. (A.S.), again. 

Eftsone, eftsones, adv. (A.s.), soon after, 
presently. 

Egalite, n.' (A.N.), equality. 

EQer, egre, adj. (A.N.). sharp. 

Egge, v. (A.s.), to incite. 

Egqement, n., incitement. 

Egging, n., inciting, incite n^^nt. 

Eg'remoine, n. (a.n.), agrimony. 

Eijgli. 11, egghne, n. pi. (a.s.), eyes. 

Egr, n. (A.X.), air. 

Elal, part. pa. (Lat.\ elated. 

Elde, n. (A.s.), old age. 

Elenge, adj. (A.s.), strange ; dull, cheer- 
less ; weighed down with care. 

Elf, n. (A.S.), a witch, a fairy. 

ElleR, adv. (A.S.), else ; elles zvhaf, any- 
thing else. 

Elvish, adj. (Sax.), fairy-like, fantastic : 
sometimes it seems to signify shy, re- 
served. 

Emboi/ssement, n. (A.N.), ambush. 

Embroiodid, part. pa. (A.N.), embroi- 
dered. 

Eme, n. (A.s.), an uncle. 

Empetre, v. (A.N.), to impair, hurt. 

Emplastre, v. (A.N.), to plaster over. 

Emprise, n. (A.N.), an undertaking. 

Embrace, v. (a.n.), to take hold of. 

Enchnujing, n. (a.n.), heat. 

Enchesoun, n. (a.n.), cause, occasion. • 

Encorporing, part. pr. (A.N.), incorpo- 
rating. 

Endelong, prep. (A.S.), along ; endlange, 
adv., lengthways. 

Endite, v. (a.n.), to dictate, relate. 

Enforce, \. (A.N.), to strengthen. 

Enforced, part, pa., constrained by force. 

Engendrure, n. (A.N.), generation. 

Engined, part. pa. (an.), racked, tor- 
tured. 

Engregge, v. (A.N.), to aggravate. 



Enqyn, n. (A.N.), ingenuity, genius. 

Enhaunse, v. (a.n.), to raise. 

Enhort, v. (A.N.), to exhort. 

Enleven (A.s.), eleven. 

Enlumine, v. (a.n.), to illuniinate. 

Enoynt, part. pa. (a.n), anointed. 

Enspire, v. (a.n.), to inspire. 

Ensure, v. (a.n.), to assure. 

Entend, v. (a.n.), to attoid 

Entendevient, n., understanding. 

Entente, n. (a.n.), intention. 

Ententif, adj. (a.n.), attentive. 

Entremet, v. (a.n.), to interpose. 

Enfri, n (A.N ), entry. 

Entuned, part, pa., tuned. 

Envenyme, v. (a.n.), to poison. 

Envoluped, part. pa. (A.n.), wrapt up. 

Envyned, stored with wine. 

Eny, adj., any. 

Eorthe, n. (A-s.), earth. 

j&r, adv. (AS.), before, before that. 

Erche, for arch, as erchebischop, &c. 

Ere, V, (A.S.), to plough. 

Erme, v. (A.s.), to grieve. 

Ermeful, pitiful. 

Ermin, adj., Armenian. 

Emestful, adj., serious. 

En-aunt, part. pr. (a.n.), strolling, ap- 
plied to a thief, 

Ers, erse, n. (a s ), the fundament. 

Erst, adv. superl. of er. first : at erst, for 
the first time. 

Esclunrfyng, tschanfyng, part. (A.N), 
heating. 

Eschieu, eschue, v. (a.n.), to shun, to 
decline. 

Ei^c, n. (A.N.), pleasure. 

Ese, v., to accommodate ; to ease, give 
pleasure. 

Esement, n., relief. 

Espiaile, n. (a.n.), spying, private watch- 
ing. 

Essoyne, n. (a.n.), a legal excuse. 

Estat, estaat, n. (A.N.), state, condition, 
administration of government. 

Estatlich, adj. (a.n.), stately. 

Estres, n. pi. (A.N.), the inward parts of 
a building 

Eterne, adj. (Lat.), everlasting. 

Evangiles, n. pi- (a.n.), gospels. 

Even, adj (A.s.), equal : an even-cristen, 
a fellow-f'hristian. 

Everich, adj. (A.s.), every one of many ; 
each of two. 

Everychon, every one. 

Ew, ii. (A.s.), yew. 

Exaltat, part. pa. (Lat.), exalted. 

Exametron is explained by the context 
to signify a verse of six feet. 

Execuwur, n. (a.n ), executioner. 

Ey, n. (A.S.), an egg : a grypes eye, a 
griffin's egg. 

Eyen, pi., eyes. 

Faerie, n. (a.n.), the people of fairies, 
enchantment, the work of fairies. 



GLOSSARY. 



618 



Fain (A.S.), glad. 

Fainet adv., gladly. 

Faitour, ii. (A.N.), a lazy, idle fellow. 

Faldyiu/, n., a kind of coarse cloth. 

False)),' V. (a.n.), to falsify, to deceive. 

Falwe, adj. (a.s.), yellow. 

Falwes, n. pi. (A.s.), fallow lands. 

Famulere, adj. (Lat.), domestic. 

Fit)), n., a vane, the quintaine, or post 
with a movable top, which is called a 
fan or vane, from its turning round 
like a weathercock. 

Fcuide, pa. t. otjinde, found. 

Fane, n., a weathercock. 

Fanfasie, n. (a.jj.), fancy. 

Fantom, n. (A.N.), any false imagina- 
tion. 

Fare, v. (A.s.), to go ; to fare welle, to 
speed, to be happy. 

Fare, n., seems to have been derived 
from the French x./aire, whenever it 
can be interpreted by the word ado. 
This hote/i?e', for which the wardein 
chidde and made/are ; what amount- 
eth all this fare '* betwixt us two 
nedeth no strange /are , aiid leve this 
nice/are. 

Farse, v. (a.n.), to stuff, 

Faute, n. (a.x.), want. 

Fawe, adj. (a.s.), glad. 

Fay, n. (A.N.), fnith. 

Fecclie, v. (A.s.), to fetch. 

Fee, n. (A.s.), money ; goods. 

Feyne, v. (A.K.), to feign. 

Ftl, adj. (A.S.), cruel, destructive. 

Felaw, n. (A.s.), fellow, companiou. 

Feld, n. (A.S.), a field. 

Fele, adj. (A.s.;, many. 

Fele, V. (A.S.), to feel, to have sense, to 
perceive. 

Felonie, n. (A.N,), all sorts of criminal 
violence. 

Feminie, pr. n,, the country of Ama- 
zons. 

Fem'mite, n, (A.N), womanhood. 

Feend, n. (A.s.), an enemy, the devil. 

Feendly, adj., devilish. 

Fer. adv. (A.s.), far ^ferre, further ; fer- 
resr, superl., furthest. 

Ferd,fered, part. pa. oi fere, terrified. 

Ferd, ferde, pi. ferden, pa. t. of /are, 
went. 

Fere, n. (A.s.), a companion, a mate ; in 
fere, together, in company. 

Fere, n. (A.s.), fear ; v., to terrify. 

Fer forth, jferforthly, adv. (A.s.), far 
forth. 

Ferly, adj. (A.s.), ^trange. 

Fennaoje, for pharmacie, n. (A.N.), a 
medicine. 

Farme, n. (A.N.), a farm. 

Fermerere, n. (Lat.). the officer in a re- 
ligious house who had the care of the 
infirmary. 

Fern, adj. (A.s.), distant. 

Feme, adv. (a.s.), before. 



Fers, adj. (a.n.), fierce. 

Ferth, fourth. 

Fen here, adv. (a.s.>, further. 

Fo-thinq, n. (A.s.), a farthing, /.. <?. fourtli- 
ing ; any very small thing, or quantity. 

Feste, n. (A.N.), feast. 

Festeying, part. pr. (a.n.), feasting. 

Festly, adj., used to feasts. 

Festne, v. (A.S.), to fasten. 

Feet, n. (A.N.), work, i^erforniain:;-. 

Fetys, adj., well made, neat, 

Fetysly, adv.,neaUy, properly. 

Fet, fette, part. pa. of ftcche, fetched, 
brought. 

Fey, n. (a.n.), faith. 

Feyne, v, (A.N.), to make a pass in fenc- 
ing, to fence. 

Fil, pa. t. of /a^/, fell. 

Fynch, n. (A.s,), a sn^all bird. To [ull 
a finch was a proverbial expression 
signifying to strip a man, by fraud, of . 
his money, &c. 

Fy)it, tindeth. 

Fyn, n. (A.N.), end. 

Fine, v. (A.N.), to cease. 

Fyt, n. (A.S.), a division or short por- 
tion of a poem. 

Fithul, n, (A.s.), a fiddle. 

Fixe, adj. (A,n.), fixed, 

Flayne, part, pa. of flaye, v. (A.s.), 
flayed. 

Flatour, n. (A.N.), a flatterer. 

Flecked, adj. (A.s.), spotted. 

Fie, V. neut. (A.s.), to fly. 

Fteen, n. i)\ (,A.s.), fleas. 

Fleme, v. (A..s.), to banish. 

Ftemer, n., one who banishes, 

Flete, V, (A.S.), to float, to swim. 

Flicker, v. neut. (A.s.), to flutter. 

Flit, V, neut. (A.s.), to liy. 

Flo, n. (A.S.), an arrow ; feme, pi. 

Flokmel, adv. (A.s,), in a' flock. 

Floyte, n. (a.n.), a flute. 

Florein, pr. n., a species of gold coin. 

Flotery, adj. (A.s.), floating. 

Floured, v, (A,n.), flourished, 

Floicting, playing on the flute, 

Foyne, v. (a.n.), to make a pass in fenc- 
ing ; to push, 

Foysotm. n. (A.N.), abundance. 

Folid, part, pa, (A,s.), foaled. 

Fole-large, adj. foolishly liberal. 

Folye, n. (A,N.), folly. 

Fol'ily, adv., foolishly. 

Folive, V. (A.s.) to follow. 

Fond, pa. t. offn</e, found. 

Fonde,v. (A.s.)', to try. 

Fo)ie, n. pi., foes. 

Fonge, v. (A.s.), to take. 

Fon, n. (A.s.), a fool. ^. 

Foot-hoof, immediately. 

Foot-mantel, probably a sort of ridinp- 
petticoat, such as is still used by mar- 
ket-women. 

For. in composition with verbs, answer- 
ing to the German ver-, skives in somo 



614 



GLOSSARY. 



words an intensitive, and in others a 
privative signification, and always 
communicates a destructive sense. 
Forhoden, part. pa. of forbade, v. (A.S.), 

forbidden. 
For-brused, part. pa. v. (A.s.), sorely 

bruised. 
Force, n. (A.N.) : tw force, no matter ; / 

do 110 force, I care not. 
For-cuite, v. (A.S.), to cut through. 
For-do, V. (A.S.), to do away, to ruin. 
For-don, for-do, part, pa., undone. 
For-druriken, part. pa. (A.s.), very 

drunken. 
Far-dry, adj. (A.S.), very dry. 
For-dwined, part. pa. (A.s.), wasted 

away. 
Foreiveting, n. (A.s.), foreknowledge. 
Forewtte,fonvot(', v., to foreknow. 
Forfaite, v. (A.N.), to misdo ; to forfeit. 
For-fare, v. (A.N.), to fare ill. 
For-fered, part. pa. (A.s.), much afraid. 
For-gon, inf. v. (A-s.), to omit, to lose. 
For-growen, part. pa. (A.s.), overgrown. 
For-kerve, v. (A.S.), to carve or cut 

through. 
For-laft, part. pa. (A.s.), left off entirely. 
For-lese, v. (A.S.), to lose entirely. 
For-lefe. v. (A.S.), to give over, to quit ; 

to forsake. 
For-lore, part. pa. (A.s.), utterly lost. 
Forme, adj. (A.s.), first. 
Fornai/s, n. (A.N.), a furnace. 
For.piined, part. pa. (A.s.), wasted away, 

tormented. 
For-sleuthe, for-sloufhe, for-slugge, v. 

(A.S.), to lose through sloth, 
Forster, n. (a.n.). a forester. 
For-straught , part. pa. (A .s.), distracted. 
Forthby, adv. (A.s.), forward by. 
For-thinke, v. (A.s.), to repent. 
For-thought, pa. t. oi for-thinke. 
Forthy, conj. (A.S.), therefore. 
For-troden, part. pa. of for-trede, v. 

(A.s.), trodden down. 
Fortune, v. (A.N.), to make fortunate, to 

give good or bad fortune. 
For-waked, part, pa. ^A.s.), weary with 

being awake. 
For-wandred, part. pa. (A.s.), having 

wandered long. 
Forward, n^(A s.), a promise, or covenant. 
For-iorapped, part, pa., wrapped up. 
For-yelde, v. (A.s.), to repay. 
Fostred, part. pa. (A.s,), nourished. 
Fostryng, n., nutriment. 
Fother, \\. (a.s.), a carriage-load, an in- 
definite large quantity. 
Foule, n. (A.s.), a bird. 
Found, pa. t. oifinde, supplied. 
Foandred, pa. t. (a.n.), fell down. 
Foivel, n. (a.n.), a fowl, a bird. 
Fra for fro, prep. ^A.s.), from : til and 

fra, to and fro. 
Franchise, n. (A.s.), frankness, gener- 
osity. 



Frank, n., a denomination of French 
money. 

Frankeleyn, n. (A.N.). Fortescue, de L. 
L. Ang. c. 29, describes a franklain to 
be a pater faniilias— magnis ditatus 
possessionibus, a father of a family 
enriched with great possessions. He 
is classed with, but after, the Miles 
and Armiger ; and is distinguished 
from the Libere tenentes, free ten- 
ants, and Valecti.; though, as it would 
seem, the only real distinction between 
him and other freeholders consisted in 
the largeness of bis estate. 

Fraught, v. (a.s.), to freight, load a 
ship. 

Fre, adj. (A.s.), willing, unconstrained, 
at liberty, liberal, bountiful. 

Freknes, n. pi. (A.s.), spots, freckles. 

Frelte, n. (A.N.), frailty. 

Fremde, Fremed, adj. (A.s.), strange. 

Frere, n. (a.n.), a friar. 

Frete, v. (A.s.), to eat, devour; frefct 
part, pa., eaten. 

Freyne, v. (A.s.), to ask. 

Frote, v. (A.N.), to rub. 

Fructuous, adj. (a.n.), fruitful. 

Fruitestere, n., a female seller of fruit. 

Ful-drive, part, pa., fully driven, con> 
pleted, 

Fulliche, adv., fully. 

Fulsomnes, n. (A.s.), satiety. 
IHimetere, pr. n. of a plaint; fumitory. 
Fumosite, n. (a.n j, fumes arising front 

excessive drinking. 
Fundament, n. (a.n.), foundation. 
Furial, adj. (A.N.), raging. 
Fusible, adj., capable of being melted. 

Gabbe, v. (a.n.), to jest ; to talk idly ; to 

lie. 
Gadling, n. (a s.), an idle vagabond. 
Gadred, part, pa. (A s.), gathered. 
Gaylard, adj., (a.n.), gay licentious. 
Gaitre-beries, berries of the dog-wood 

tree. 
Gale, V. (A.S.), to crie, to sing. 
Galyngale, pr. n., eweet cyperus. 
Galoche, n. (A.N.), a shoe. 
Galpe, V. (A.S.), to gape, to yawn. 
Gaboes, n. pi. (A.s.), the gallows. 
Gan, pa. t. (A.s.), began ; gannen, pi. 
Gane, v. (A.s.), to yawn. 
Gar, V. (A-s), to make. 
Gargate, n. (a.n.), the throat. 
Garnisoun, n. (a.n.), a guard, or garrl 

son. 
Gate, n. (A.s.), a way. 
Gattothud, goat-toothed. 
Gaude, n. Ja.n.), jest ; gaudes, pi., ridio 

ulous tricks. 
Gaule, V. (A.s.), to yell. 
Gaure, v. (A.s.), to stare. 
Geant, n. (a.n.), a giant. 
Gent, adj. (A.N.), neat, pretty. 
Genterye, n. (a.n.), gentility. 



GLOSSARY. 



615 



OentU, adj. (A.N.), civil, liberal, geiitlc- 
niaiilike. 

Gcntllnts, n., civility, gentility. 

Gepoim, 11. (A.N.), a'yhort ca.ssuck. 

Cor, 11. (,A..s.),all sorts of iiistriimeiits of 
cookery, of war, of apparel, of cliem- 
istry : In here queijute ycies, 1. 1533, in 
tlieir strange fasliioiis. 

Gery, gerfiU (a.n.), fliangeable. 

Gesse, v. (.A.s.), to guess. 

Gest, n. (A.s.). a guest. 

Geste, v. (A.s.), to relate gestes, or ad- 
ventures. 

Gesies, n. pi., actions, adventures. 

Gesfour, n., a relater of gestes. 

Get,n. {A.y.), fashion, behavior: With 
that false get, with that cheating con- 
trivance. 

Gye, v. (A,S.), to.rult! ; to guide. 

Gi/lour, n. (a.n.), a deceiver. 

G\lt, n. (A.S.), guilt. 

Gilfeles, adj., free from guilt. 

Giltif, adj., guilty. 

Gin, 11. (A.N.), engine, contrivance. 

Gipser, n. (A.k.), a pouch or purse. 

Giipoun,\\. ; see gi'jxmn. 

Girde. v. (A.s.>,to strii e, to smite. 

<?ir^ part. pa. of girde; thui-gh girt, 
smitten through. 

Gijse, n. (A.N.), guise, fashion. 

Gi/te, n. (A.N.), a gown. 

Giterne, n. (.\.N.), a guitar. 

Glade, v. (A.s.), to make glad. 

Gladsom, adj., pleasant. 

Gle, n. (A.S.), mirth, music ; the perfomi- 
ance of the minstrels or glee-men. 

Gleede, n. (A.s.), a burning coal ; a spark 
of lire. 

Gleijre, n. (a.n.). the white of an egg. 

Glimsing, n., glimmering. 

Gliteren, pr. t. pi. of gliter, v. (.4..S.), they 
glitter. 

Glad I', pa. t. of glide. 

Gloae, n. (A.N.)," a comment, or interpre- 
tation ; v., to comment or interpret ; 
to speak tenderly ; to flatter. 

Gloiveden, pa. t. pi. (A.s.), they glowed. 

Gnane, u. (.\ s.), a hard knot in a tree. 

Gnat, n. (A.s.\ is put for any little 
worthless thing. 

Gnof, u., an old cuff, a miser. Gloss. 
Ur. 

Gnoive, pa. t. (a s.), g awed. 

Go, V. (A.s ), means sometimes to walk, 
in contradistinction to riding. 

Gohct, n. (A.N.), a morsel, a bit. 

Good-lea, adj., without money or goods. 

Gods'ih, n. (A.s.), a gossip, a godfather. 

Gold-heten, adj. (A.s.), of beaten gold. 

Goldsmithry, n. (A. s.), goldsmith's 
work. 

Goliardeis, n. (A.n.). a low class of so- 
ciety in the middle ages, who lived 
upon the suik riluity of the richer. 

Gon, inf. m. (as.), to go J pr, t. pi., they 
go i part, pa., gone. 



Gonge, n. (.\.s.), a jakes. a privy. 

Gonnen,gonne, pa. t. pl.'of (/m/ie, begun. 

Gore, r... a common name for a slip of 
cloth or linen wider at the bottom than 
at the top, which is inserted in oitl^^r 
to widen a garment in any particular 
place. 

Gossamer, n., a thin cobweb-like sub- 
stance which Hies about in the air. 

Gost, n. (A.S.), spirit, mind. 

Goth, imp. m. lid. pers. pi., go ye. 

Gourd, n., a vessel to carry liquor ; per- 
haps so called from its shape. 

Governayle, n. (A.N.), government, steer- 
age. 

Gowne-cloth, cloth enough to make a 
gown. 

Grace, n. (A.N.), favor ; sory grace, harde 
grace, misfortune. 

Gracious, adj. (a.n.), agreeable, grace- 
ful. 

Grame, n. (A.s.), grief, anger. 

Graunge, n. (A.n.), a farm-house. 

Grave (graven), part, pa., buried. 

Gree, n. (A.n.), pleasure, satisfaction ; to 
receyre in qree, to take kindiy ; the 
gree, the prize ; also, a step or degree, 
from the Latin gradus. 

Grede. v. (A.s.), to cry. 

Greythe, v. (A.s.), to prepare, make 
ready. 

Grcfhed, n. (A.N.), grief. 

Grees, ii. (a.n.), grease. 

Grette, pa. t. (a.s.), greeted, saluted. 

Greres, n. pi. (A-s.), groves. 

Grinf, grindeth. 

Grinfe, pa. t., ground: grynte with his 
teeth, gnashed with his teeth ; grinting, 
n., grinding, gnashing. 

Grys, n. (a.n.), a species of fur of the 
better sort. 

Grisly, adj. (a.s.), dreadful. 

Grucche,v. (A..s.), to grudge, to murmur. 

Grolne, n. (a.n.), the snout of a swine, 
a hanging lip. 

Grone, v. (A.n.), to groan, to gruiu ; 
gront, pa. t , groaned. 

Grope, v. (A.s-), to search, to examine by 
feeling, 

Grot, n., a coin worth fourpence. 

Grounden, part. pa. of grind. 

Groyning, n., discontent. 

Gritf, adj. (.^..s.), flat on the ground. 

Guerdoun, n. (a.n.), reward, recom- 
pense ; v., to reward. 

Guide, n., the flower commonly called 
a turnsol. 

Gultif, adj. (A. 8.), guilty. 

Gurles, n. pi. (A.S.), young persons, 
either male or female. 

Hamburgeon, n. (a.n.), a diminutive of 

hauberg, a coat of mail. 
Hadden, pa. t. pi., they had. 
Haf, pa. t. of heve . (A.s.), heaved, 

raised. 



616 



GLOSSARY. 



Hail, n. (A.S.), health, welfare. 

Haire, n. (A.N.), a hair-cloth. 

Hakeiwy, n. (A.N.). ^ hackney; an am- 
bling horse, or p.id. 

Haketoun, n. (A.x.), a short cassock with- 
out sleeves. 

Hald, part, pa., held. 

Half, "• (A.S.), a side, a part : a Gndrfis 
half, on God's part ; with God's favor : 
on 'the/our hafvc!<, on the four sides. 

Halke, n.(A.s.). a corner. 

Haipe, pa. t. (A.s.), helped. 

Hals, n. (A.S.), the neck. 

Halse, V (A.s.), to embrace round the 
neck, to salute. 

Halioes, n. pi. (A-s.), saints. 

Ham, n. (A.s.), home. 

Han, inf. m., to have. 

Hanselines, a part of the dress, apparent- 
ly a sort of breeches. 

Happe, or hap, n. (A.s.), chance ; v., to 
happen. 

Hnrde, v. (A.s.), to make hard. 

Har(lel!/,ad\. (A.N.), boldly ; adv. (A.s.), 
certainly. 

Harding, n. (A.s.), hardening. 

Harie, v. (A.N.), to hurry ; to harie and 
drawe. 

Harlot, n. (A.N.), a low fellow, belonging 
to the same base class of society as the 
goliardeisand ribalds. 

Harlotries, n. pi., ribaldries. 

Harneys, n. (A.N.), armor, furniture. 

Harnetjse, v. (A.x.), to dress, to furnish. 

Harow, interj. (A.N.), an exclamation of 
alarm. 

Harwed, pa. t. v. (A.s.), harried, plun- 
dered. 

Hasardour, n. (A.N.), a player at hazard, 
a gamester. 

Hasardrie, n., gaming in ceueral. 

Hastifly, adv. (A. ^^), hastily. 

Hate, V. (A.S.), to be named. 

Haubtrk, n. (A.N.), a coat of mail. 

Haren, inf. m. of hare. 

Haunt, n. (A.x.), custom, practice. 

Haunte, v. (A.n.), to practise; hann- 
teden, pa. t. pi., they practised, fre- 
quented. 

//iii<Ye?/ri, adj. (a. N.), haughty, high, loud; 
a hautein faucon, a high-flying hawk ; 
faulcon haulfain. 

Hawe, n. (A.s.), a hawthorn-berry ; a 
farmyard, a churchyard. 

Hawe-bake, according" to Urry, for kati- 
berk. 

He, pron. (A.s.), is often prefixed in all 
its cases to proper names emphatical- 
ly, accordinc to the Saxon usage : He 
Moises: He Tityus. 

Heed, n. (A.s.), a head. 

Hef/ges, n. pi. (a.s.), hedges- 

Hele, V. (A.S.). to hide ; to heal, to help. 

Hele, n., health. 

Het)i, obi. c. pi. of he, them. 



Hen, adv. , hence. 

Heende, hende, hendy, adj. (A.s.), civil, 

courteous. 
Henen, henne, hennes, hens, adv. (As.)i 

hence. 
Heng, pa. t., hung. 
Hente, v. (A.s.), to takehold of, to catch; 

hent, pa. t. and part. 
Hepe, n. (A.s.), a heap, a hip, the fruit 

of the dog-rose. 
Herowd, heraud, n. (A.N.), a herald. 
Herbergage, n. (A.s.), lodging. 
Herberjours, n. pi., providers of lodg- 
ings, harbingers. 
Herbtrwe, n. (A.s.), an inn, a lodging; 
in astrology, the place of the sun : v., 
to lodge. 
Herde, hierde, n. (A.s.), a keeper; a 

herd. 
Here, pron., their. 
Heere, v. (A.s.), to hear ; herd, herde, pa. 

t. and part. ; herd en, pa. t. pi. 
Hcer. u. (A.s.), hair ; heren, adj., made of 

hiiir. 
Heris, 1. 7508, theirs. 
Herking, part. pr. (A.s.), hearkening. 
Hern, li. (A.s.), a corner. 
Heronseices, n. pi. (A.n.), young herons. 
Herte, n. (A.S.). the heart: herte-spon, 1. 
2608, this part of the body is not named 
in the dictionaries. Fronx a p)assag(» 
in Johnson's Sad Shepherd, Tyrwhitt 
suspects it may mean the concave part 
of the breast, where the lower ribs 
unite with the cartilago ensiforiiiis. 
Herfeles, adj., without courage. 
Hertly, adj., hearty. 
Her'ie, V. (A.S.), to praise. 
Herying, n,, praise. 
Hes'te, 11. (A.S.), command, promise. 
Hefe, V. (A.S.), to promise, to be called. 

See highte. 
Hethene'sse, n. (A.s.), the country of the 

heathens. 
Hethyng, n. (A.s.), contempt. 
Here. v. (A.s.), to heave, to raise; v, 

neut., to labor. 
Heved, n. (A.s.). the head. 
He^ve, v. (A.s.), to cut, to hew. 
Heve, n. (A.s.). color, appearance. 
Hej/gh, adj., high. 
Hidous, adj. (.\.M ), dreadful : hidonsh/. 

adv., terribly. 
Hye, n. (A.s.), haste, diligence ; v. te 

hasten. 
Hight, n. (A.S.), height. 
Highte. v. (A.s.), called. 
Hild, pret., held. 

Him, obj. of he. is often used alone in 
that reciprocal sense which is general- 
ly expressed by the addition of the 
adj. self. Than hath he <lon Ins frend. 
ne hini, no shame, i. e. nor himself 
As he him laid. Aud clad him. And 
bare him. 



GLOSS ART. 



617 



Hynderest, the hindmost, 

Hijnc. II. (A.S.), a servant in husbandry, 
a hind. 

Hir, their. 

Hire, obj. c. of she, is often, like him, put 
for herself, and without the usual 
preposition. See him. 

Hire, pron. poss., her. 

Hochcpot, n. (A.N.), a mixture of va- 
rious things shaken together in the 
same pot. 

Holder, ti. (A.S.), frowardness : hokerly, 
adv., frowardly. 

IIoldt\ n. (A.s.), a fort or castle. 

Jit.:(l, Jioldcn, part, pa., obliged. 

/J/,,', hole, adj. (a.s.), whole, entire, 
sound. 

Holty, adv., entirely, wholly. 

IJolour, u. (A.S-), a whoremonger. 

jjnlte, n. (A.S.), a grove, or forest : holte, 
1. 4927, for holih:, a fort or castle. 

Holt, holdeth. 

Homly, adj. (A.s.), domestic, plain,simple. 

Hombjnesse, n. (A.s.), domestic manage- 
ment ; familiarity. 

Honde, n. (A.s.), a hand. 

Honesf, adj. (a.n.), means generally, ac- 
cording to the French usage, credit- 
able, honorable ; becoming a i)erson of 
rank. 

Honest^, hnnestet^, n. (A.N.), virtue, de- 
cency, good manners. 

Hoor, hore, adj. (A.S.), hoary, gray. 

Hoot, adj. (A.S.), hot. 

Hope, V. (A.S.), to expect ; to hope. 

Hoppesteres, n. pi. (A-s.), female dan- 
cers. 

Hord, n. (.\.s.), a treasure ; a private 
place fit for the keeping of treasure. 

Horsly, adj., is applied to a horse, as 
vianly is to a man. 

Hospitalers, n. pL, religious persons, of 
both sexes, who attended the sick in 
hospitals. 

Host, n. (A.N.), an army. 

Hostel, n. (A.N.), an inn, a dwelling- 
place. 

Hostyler, n. (A.x.), an inn-keeper. 

Hostelrie, n. (a.n.), an inn, or lodging- 
house. 

Hole, adv., hotly. 

Hote, hoteri, part. pa. of hete. called. 

Hound-fisch, n. (A.S.), the dog-fish. 

Houped, pa. t. (a.n.), hooped, or hol- 
lowed ; shoaled, 

Honshondrye,n. (X.s.), thrift, economi- 
cal management. 

Housbond-man, n. (a.s.), the master of 
the family. 

Housel, n. (a.s), the Eucharist. 

Housele,v., to administer the sacrament: 
to ben hmiselyd, to receive the sacra- 
ment. 

Hoinre n, (A.S.), a cap, or hood. 

Bkmblehede, n., humble state. 



Humblesse, n., humility. 
Hunte, hont, n. (A.s.), a huntsman. 
Hurtle, V. (.A..N.), to push. 
Hylled, part. pa. (A.s.), hidden. See 
hele. 

Ich, pron. (A.S.), I : so the ich, so may I 
prosper. 

Idel, adj. (A.S.), idle, fruitless ; in idel, 
in vain. 

Idolastre, n. (a.n.), an idolater. 

Ik, yk, pron. (A.s.), I. 

Tike, adj. (A.s.), same. 

Imayinatif, adj. (A.n.), suspicious. 

Imped, part, pa. (A.s.), planted, grafted. 

Iiiipes, n. pi., shoot of trees, grafts. 

Importable, adj. (a.n.), intoleraJ)le, im- 
possible. 

Impossible, n. (a.n.), an impossibility. 

In. prep, (a.s.), upon. 

Indigne, adj. (a.n.), unworthy. 

Ingot, n., a mould for casting ingots. 

Inhabit, part. pa. (a.n.), inhabited. 

Inly, adv. (.^..s.l, inwardly, deeply, thor- 
oughly. 

Imie, adv. (A.s.), in. 

In, in>:e, n. (A.s.), a house, habitation, 
lodging. 

Inned, ynned, part. pa. (A.s.), lodged. 

Innocent, adj. (a.n.), itjnorant. 

Inioit, n. (A.S.), understanding; con- 
science. 

Inwith, prep. (A.s.), within. 

Irons, adj., passionate. 

Itaille, pr. n., Italy. 

Jambeux, n. pi. (A.N.), armor for the 

legs. 
Jane, n., a coin of (Janua) Genoa ; it is 

put for any small coin. 
Jangle, v. (.\.N.). to prate, to talk much 

or fast ; n., prate, babble. 
Jangler,janglour, n., a prater •,jangleres, 

a female prater. 
Jape, n. (A.N.), a trick, a jest. 
Jape, v., to jest, to cheat, to laugh at ; to 

put to shame. 
Japer, n., a common jester or buffoon. 
Japerie, n., buffoonery. 
Jestes, n. pi. as gestcs, deeds. 
Jeujerie, n. (A.N.) a district inhabited by 

Jews. 
Jewise, n. (\.N.), judgment, punishment. 
Joconde, adj. (A.N.), joyous, pleasant. 
Jogelour, n. (a.n.), a niinstrel, a juggler. 
Jo'lyf, adj. (A.N.), joyful, jolly. 
Jordanes, n. pi., ch.imber-pots. 
Jossa, an exclamation. 
Jonniee, n. (a.n.), a day's journey ; a 

day's work. 
Jubalter, pr. n., Gibraltar. 
Jubbe, n., a vessel for holding ale or 

wine. 
Judicum, the Book of Judges. 
Juyl, n., the mouth of July. 



018 



aLO.^SART. 



Jupartie, n. (A.N.), jeopardy. 
Justice, n. (a.n.)» a judge. 
Juwi/se, n. (A.K.), judgment. 

Kaiinnrd ; oayuard, or caigiiard, was a 
French term of reproach, which seems 
to have been originally derived from 
can is, dog. 

Kemelyn, u. (A.S.), a tub. 

Kempe, kempt, part. pa. (A.s.), combed. 

Keep, n. (A.N.). care, attention; take no 
keep, do not mind it. 

Kepe, v., to take care. 

Kers, n. (A.s.). water-cresses : of para- 
mnurs tie sette he naf a kers, would now 
be expressed by, he cared not a rush 
for love. 

Kerver, n. (A.S.), a carver. 

Kisse, v., to kiss , keste, pa. t., kissed. 

Keverchef, n. (A.N.), a cover for the head, 
a kerchief. 

Kevere, v. (A.x.), to cover, or recover. 

Kichit, n. (A.S.), a little cake. 

Kid, kidde, (A.s.), made known, discov- 
ered. 

Kike, V. (A.S.), to kick. 

Kin, n. (A.s.), kindred. 

Ki/nd, n. (A.S.), nature. 

Ki/ndely, adv., naturally. 

Kinrede, n., kindred. 

Kirtel, n. (A.S.), a tunic or waistcoat. 

Kijthe, v. (A.S.), to show, to make 
known. 

Knakkes, n. pi. (A.S.), trifling tricks. 

Knarre, n. (A.s.), a knot in a tree. 

Knarry, adj. (A.s.), full of knarres, or 
knots. 

Knave, n. (A.s.), a servant, properly a 
bov-servant : a knave-child, a male 
child. 

Kni(iht,w. (A.s.), a servant, generally a 
servant in war ; a soldier, a dubbed 
knight. 

Knighthode, n., valor. 

Knit, part. pa. (A.s.), joined, bound, 
agreed. 

Knobbes. n. pi. (a.s.), excrescences in 
the shape of buds or buttons ; pim- 
ples. 

Knowp, n. (A.S.), a knee. 

Knoirleche, v (A.S.). to acknowledge. 

Krion-lechiny, n., knowledge. 

h'oiithe, (A.S.), knew, known. 

Kyke, v. (A.s.), to look steadfastly. 

taas, n. (A.N.), a lace, a snare. 

Labhe, n., a blab, a great talker ; lahhing, 
blabbing. 

Lace, n. (A,N), a snare. 

Lacerf, n. (A.N.), a fleshy muscle. 

Lachesse, n. (A.N.),, slackness, negli- 
gence. 

Lad, ladde, led, carried. 

Laft, left. 

Layneres, n. pi. (a. n.), straps or thongs. 



Lake, n., a sort of cloth. 

Lakke, (A.s.), a fault, a disgraceful ac- 
tion ; want. 

Large, adj. (A.N.), spacious, free, prodi- 
gal : till that it ivas prime large, tiM 
prime was for spent. 

Largely, adv., fully. 

Lasse, less. 

Latrede, part. pa. (A.s.), delayed, tardy. 

Lathe, n. (A.s.), a barn. 

Latoun, u. (A.N.), a kind of mixed metal 
of the color of brass. 

Laudes, the service performed in the 
fourth, or las^t, watch offthe night. 

Launde, n. (a.n.), a plain not ploughed. 

Laureole, n. (a.n.). npurge-laurel. 

Laurer, n. (a.n.), laurel. 

Laverock, n. (A.s.), a lark. 

Lauiicegay, n., a sort of lance. 

Lavoiirs, n. pi. (A.N'.), lavers. 

Laxatif, n. (A.N.), a purging medicine. 

Lay, n. (A.s.), law, religious profession. 

Layt, n. (A.s.), lightning. 

Lazer, n. (A.N.), a leper. 

Leche, n. (a.s.), a physician ; lechecrafty 
the skill of a physician, the practice of 
medicine. 

Lecherous, adj., provoking lechery. 

Lechour, n. (a.n.), a lecher. 

Leden, n. (A.s.), language. 

Lees, n. (A.N.),a leash by which dogs are 
held. 

Leef, adj. (A.s.), pleasing, agreeable; 
beloved : be him loth, or let)', though 
it be unpleasing to him, or pleasing ; 
for lefe ve lothe, for friend nor enemy : 
it sometimes signifies pleased : / nm 
nought leef to gabbe, I am not pleased 
to prate ; 1 take no pleasure in prat- 
ing. 

Leful, adj. (a.s.), lawful, 

Legge, v. (A.s.), to lay. 

Leysir, n. (a.n.), leisure, opportuiiity. 

Leiie,r\. (A.s.), light ; lightning. 

Limes, n. pi. (A.s.), flames. 

Lemman, n. (A.s.), a lover, or gallant, ft 
mistress. 

Lendes, n. pi. (A.s.), the loins. 

Zenc, adj. (A.s.), lean: 

Lene, v. (A.s-), to lend, to grant. 

Lenger, longer. 

Lenton, n., the season of Lent. 

Leonine, adj., belonging to a lion. 

Lepart, n., a leopard. 

Leep, leaps ; lept. 

Lere, lerne, v. (A.s.), to learn, to teach; 
lered, learnt. 

Lere, n. (A.s.), the skin. 

Lese, v. (A.s.), to lose ; leseth, imp., lose 

ye. 

Lesinq, n. (A.s.), a lie, a falsity. 

Lest, "list, lust, n. (a s.), pleasure. 

Leste, liste, luste, v., to please ; it is gen- 
erally used, as an impersonal in the 
thiixl poxBoix ouij, for it pleasetih, or it 



GLOSSARY. 



619 



pleased : Jiim lust ryde soo, it pleased 
nim to ride so ; uiel to drrjnke us teste, 
it pleasetli us well to drink ; if yow 
leste, if it please you; me list not pleye, 
it pleasetli me not to play. 

Leste, least 

Lette, V. (A.S.), to leave, to omit ; to 
leave, to permit ; to hinder. 

Let, n., delay, hindrance. 

Lettnire, leitenire, n. (A.N.), literature. 

Letudrh , n. (a.n.), an electuary. 

Leve, n. (A.S.), desire, inclination. 

Lfve, adj. (A.S.), dear. 

Lere, v. (A.s.), to believe : leveth me, be- 
lieve me. 

Levene, n. (A-s.), lightning. 

Lever, comp. d. of lei'f, more agreeable : 
/ hadde letter, I ha<*l rather. 

Levesel,]. 4059, the meaning of this v?ord 
is doubtful. 

Leu'ed, teu-de, adj. (A.S.), ignorant, un- 
learned ; lay ; lascivious. 

Leyte, n. (A.s.), flame. 

Liard, n. (a.n.), a name for a horse ; be- 
longing originally to a horse of a gray 
color, as bayard,{von\ bay. 

Liche-wake (a.s.), the custom of watch- 
ing with dead bodies. 

Liegis, n. pi. (A.N.), subjects. 

Lijiode, n. (A.S.), living, existence. 

Li/jly, adv. (A.s.), like the life. 

Ligeaunce, n. (a.n.), allegiance. 

Liyye, v. (A.S.). to lie down; liggyng, 
lying 

Liijhte, V. (a.s.), to enlighten, to make 
light, or pleasant ; to descend, to 
alight. 

Liken, v. (A.s.), to compare. 

Like, V. (A.S.), to please : it liketh hem, it 
pleaseth them. 

Licoroiis, likerous, adj. (A.s.), Glutton- 
ous, lascivious. 

Llcorousnes, likerousnes, n., greediness ; 
lechery. 

Likynfj,\\. (A.s.), pleasure. 

Limni/le, n. (a.n.), tilings of any metal. 

Limed, part. pa. (a.s.), caught, as with 
bird-lime. 

Limed, part. pa. (a.n.), polished, as with 
a file. 

Lime-rod, a twig with bird-lime. 

Lymy/acinun, n., a certain precinct 
allowed to a limitour. 

Lumyfour, n.. a friar licensed to beg 
within a certain district. 

Lynaye, n. (a.n.), family. 

Lynde, n. (A.s.), the lime-tree. 

Lisse, n. (A.s.), remission, abatement. 

Lissed, part. pa. (A.s.), eased, relieved. 

Liste, V. See leste. 

Litarge, n. (A.N.), white-lead. 

Lyte, adj. (A.s.), little. 

Lith, n. (A.S.), a limb. 

Lither, adj. (A.s.), wicked. 

Litherly, adT. (a.s.), ill, badly. 



Lyve n, (A.s.), life: on lyve, in life, 
alive : Lyves creatures, living crea- 
tures. 

Lodemenac/e, Loode-sferre. See the stat- 
ute 3 Geo. I. c. 13, where load-manage 
is used repeatedly in the sense of i)ilot- 
age ; the north star is similarly called 
tl'e lodesterre, and hence also our 
name of loadstone for the magnet: 
lodesmen occurs in other writings of 
Chaucer for pilots. 

Loft (A.S.), on loft, aloft, on high. 

Loge, n. (A.N.), a lodge, habitation ; 
logged, lodged ; logging, n., a lodging. 

Loken, loke, part. pa. of' lake, v. (A.s.), 
locked, shut close. 

Loller, n., a Lollard. 

Londe, n.(A.s.), land. 

Lone, n. (a.s.), a loan, anything lent. 

Longe, v. (a.s.), to belong, to desire. 

Long, along. 

Loo's, los, n. (A.N.), praise. 

Lordynges, n. pi. (a.s.), sirs, masters ; 
a diminutive of lords. 

Lordschipe, w. (A.s.), supreme power. 

Lore, n. (A.s.), knowledge, doctrine, 
advice. 

Lorel, n. (A.N.), a good-for-nothing fel- 
low. 

Lome, part. pa. of lese (A.s.), lost, un- 
done. 

Losengeour, n. (A.N.), a flatterer ; losen- 
gerie, n., flattery. 

Loth, adj. (A.S.), odious, disagreeble, 
more hateful ; lothly, adj., loathsome. 

Love-dayes, days appointed for the ami- 
cable settlement of dilierences. 

Love-drink, n., a drink to excite love. 

Love-longyng, n., desire of love. 

Lough, laughed. 

Lowke, a lurking fellow. 

Loure, v- (a.s.), to look discontented. 

Loute, V. (A.s.>, to bow, to lurk. 

Loivlyhede, n. (a.s.), humility. 

Luce, n. (a.n.), the tish called a pike. 

Lulled, invited to sleep. 

Lumbnrdes, n. pi., bankers, remitters of 
money. 

Lunarie, n., a herb, moonwort. 

Lure, n. (a.n.), a device used by falcon- 
ers for calling their hawks. 

Lure, v., to bring to the lure. 

Lust, n., see lest. 

Lust, he desires. 

Lustyhede, n. (a.s.), pleasure, mirth. 

Luxurie, n. (a.n.), lechery. 

^faaf (a.n.), dejected ; struck dead. 
Mace, n.(A.x.), a club. 
Madde, v. (A.s.), to become mad. 
Mahoun, pr. n., Mahomet. 
Mayle, n. (a.n.), a coat of mall. 
Maintenaunce, n. (A.n.), behavior. 
Maisterie, maistrie, n. (a.n.), skill, skil- 
ful management, power, superiority. 



620 



OLOSSABY. 



Maistresse, n. (a.n.), mistress, governess. 

Maistrise, n. (A.N.), masterly workman- 
ship. 

Make, n. (A.S.), a fellow, a mate, a hus- 
band, a wife. 

Make, v. (A.s-), to compose or make 
verses : to make a man's berde, to cheat 
him. 

Maked, part, pa., made. 

Male, n. (a.n.), a budget, or portman- 
teau ; evil, ill. 

Malefice, n. (A.N.), enchantment, witch- 
craft. 

Malisoim, n. (A.N.), malediction, curse. 

Malvesie, n., iMalmsey wine, [threaten. 

Manace, n, (a.n.), a threat ; v., to 

Manciple, n., an oBicer who had the care 
of purchasing victuals for an inn of 
court. 

Mandement, n. (A.N.), mandate. 

Alanere, n. (A.N.), carriage, behavior ; 
kind, or sort. 

Man>/e, n. (,a.n.), madness. 

Mannish, adj. (A.s.), human, proper to 
ihe human species ; masculine, pioper 
to man, as distinguished from woman. 

Manor, n. (a.n.), dwelling. 

Mantelet, n. (A.N.), a short mantle. 

3/a/'cia?i, adj., martial, under the influ- 
ence of Mars. 

Marreys, n. (a.m.), a marsh. 

Mary, n. (A.s.), marrow; mary-bones, 
marrow-bones. 

Market-hetor, probably one that endeav- 
ors to lower i)rices. 

Markis, n. (an.), a marquis. 

Marty re, v. (A.x ), to torment. 

Mase, n., a wild fancy ; v., to doubt, to 

- be confounded , masednesse, astonish- 
ment, confusion. 

Maselin, n., a drinking-oup. 

i\fate (A.s'.), dejected, struck dead. 

Maundement, li. (a.n.), mandate* 

Mnufire (a.n.), in spite of. 

Mavis, n. (A.s.), a thrusb^ 

Maumet, n., an idol. 

Maumetrle, n., the religion of Mahomet, 
idolatry. 

.dawe, n. (A.S.), the stomach. 

May, n. (a.s.), a virgin ; a young woman. 

Maydenhode, n. (A.s.). virginity, 

Mede, n. (A.S.), a meadow. 

Meede, n. (A-s.), reward. 

M'de. me.th, n., mead, a liquor made of 
honey. 

Medle. v. (a.n.), to mix ; medled, mixed. 

Meiincvii'lgni', meisne (.\.N.), household 
attendants, an army 

Meint (a.s.), mixed, mingled. 

Melle. n., a mill. 

Memnrie, n. (A.N.), remembrance ; v., to 
remember. 

Mcndlnanntz, n. pi. (a.n.), friars of the 
begging orders. 

Mene, v. (A.s-), to mean, to iuteud. 



Mene, n. (a.n.), a mean, or instrument. 
Mene, adj., middle, 
Menivere, n. (a.n.), a sort of fur. 
Merciable, adj. (A.N,), capable of mercy, 

merciful. 
Meritorie, adj. (a.n.), meritorious. 
Merk, n. (a.s.), a mark, an image. 
Mervaille, n. (A.n.), wonder, marvel. 
Mery, adj. (a.s,), merry, pleasant. 
Mesaventure, n. (a.n,), misfortune. 
Mesel, n. (a.n.), a leper. 
Meseirie,n. (a.n.), leprosy. 
Message, n. (a.n.), a messenger. 
Messe', n. (a.n.), the service of the mass. 
Mester, n. (a.n.), trade, occupation : 

tohat mestir men ye been, what kind of 

men ye are ; need. 
Mesurable, adj. (a.n.), moderate. 
Meschaxmce, n. (.\.n.), mi.sfortune. 
Meschiefe, n. (A.N.), misfortune. 
Mesure, n. (A.N.), moderation. 
Mete, adj. (A.s.), fitting, convenient. 
Mete, n. (a.s.), meat ; duryng the metes 

space, during the time of eating. 
Mete, V. (A.S.), to meet ; to dream. 
Metyng, dreaming. 
Mette, dreamed. 
Mewe, n. (a.n.), a cage for hawks, while 

they mue, or change their feathers ; a 

cage, in general , or any sort of couhne- 

meut. 
Might, pa. t. of May (A.s.), was able : 

might en, pi, 
Ministres, n, pi. (A .N.), officers of justice, 

ministers, minstrels. 
Myiiour,i\. (a.n,), a miner. 
Mynstralcye, n. (a.n.), music, musical 

instruments. 
Mis, adv., ill, amiss. It is often to be 

supplied to a second verb, having 

been expressed in composition with a 

former. If that I mis-speke or say. 

That hire mis-doth or saith. There is 

nothing mis-saide nor do. 
Mis, n., a wrong. 
Mysarise, v., to advise wrongly. 
^^ishoden, injured. 
Misborn, misbehaved. 
Mysdeparte, v., to distribute wrongly. 
Misericord, n. (a.n-), mercy, pity. 
Misese, n., uneasiness. 
Misgyed, misguided. 
Mysgoon, mis-go, gone wroiig. 
Mistily, adv. (A.s.), darkly. 
Mitaine, n. (a.n.), a glove. 
Mite, n. (A.s.), a small worm. 
Mixen. n. (A.s-)> a dunghill. 
Mo, more. 
Moche, mochel, adj. (A.s.). great in 

quantity, in number, in degree : adv., 

much, greatly. 
Moder, modre, inoodre, n. (A.S.), mother; 

the matrix, or principal plate of the 

astrolabe. 
Moeblis, n. pi. (a.n.), movable goods. 



GLOSSARY. 



621 



Moist, moisfij, adj. (A.N.), soft. 

Molte, melted. 

Mone, n. (A.S.), the moon ; lamentation. 

Monesfe, v. (A.>\), to admonish- 

Mood, n. (A.S.), anger. 

More (A.S.), greater in quantity, in num- 
ber, or in degree. It is usually joined 
to adjectives and adverbs, to' exjiress 
the comparative degree. 

Monnal, n., a cancer, or gangrene. 

Mortitie, v. (A.N.), to kill (speaking of 
quicksilver). 

Mortreioes, n., a kind of broth, or soup, 
in the preparation of which the flesh 
was stamped, or beat, in a mortar. 

Moru-e. n. (a.s.), the morning : a-niorwe, 
in the morning of the following day. 

{Moricening, n. (A.s.), the morning : mor- 
■iceninges, pi. 

Afosel. n. (A.N.), the muzzle, mouth of a 
beast. 

Moste (A.s,), greatest. 

Moste, v. (A.S.), must : mosten, pi. 

Mote, V. (A.S.), must, may : moten, pi. 

Mote, n. (A.S.), an atom. 

Mouqht (A.S.), might. 

Moiih, V. (A.S.), to grow mouldy. 

Mounlaunce, u. (A.x.), amount, in value, 
or quantity. 

Mowe, V. (A.S.), to be able. 

Mue, V. (A.N.), to change. 

Mullok, n. (A.S.), dung, rubbish. 

Multlplicacioun, u. (A.x.), the art of 
making gold and silver. 

K, forne, not, is often joined to the be- 
ginning of the word to which it relates, 
as nadde, had not ; nam, am not ; nas, 
was not ; 7ie7'e, were not ; nil, will not ; 
nis, is not; niste, wiste not; nolde, 
would not, &c. 

Na, no. 

A\tkers, n. pi. (A.N.), a kind of brazen 
drum used in the cavalry. 

Kale, n. (a.s.'). This word probably, in 
those few passages in which it is found, 
should be considered, not an ale-house, 
as sometimes interpreted, 'lut merely 
as a corruption, which hat arisen from 
the mispronunciation ant^ .onsequent 
miswriting of atfe nale for atten ale. 
A similar corruption sec fi)s to have 
taken jilacein the name r.L that cele- 
brateil personage in our law, Mr. John 
a-noke. wlK)se original appellation was 
John atten oke, as that of his constant 
antagonist was John atte stile. 

Nam, pa. t. of 7iime (A.s.), took. 

Nappe, V. (A-s.), to sleep. 

Narwe, adj, (a.s.), close, narrow, 

Nat, not. 

Nath, for ne hath. Lath not. 

Nafheles, adv. (A.S.), not the less, never- 
theless. 

Naught, nought, n. (A.s-), nothing. 



Naught, adv., not, not at all. It ma> 
more properly perhaps be considered 
as a noun used adverbially. 

Nay, adv. (a.s.) ; it seems to be used 
sometimes as a noun : it is no nay, it 
cannot be denied. 

N'e (A.S.), not, nor. 

Needful, adj., distressed, indigent. 

Scedely, adv., necessarily. 

Seedes, neede, adv., necessarily. 

Nedder, n. (A.s.), an adder. 

Neghebore, n. (A.s.), a neighbor. 

Neighe, adj. (A.s.), nigh ; v., to ap- 
proach, to come near. 

Nempne, v. (A.s.), to name 

Ner, near : nere, nigher. 

Nesche, adj. (A-s.), soft, tender. 

Neef, n. (A.s.), neat-cattle. 

Nethir, lower. 

Neven, v, (A.s.), to name. 

Newe, adv., newly. 

Newe, v., to renew : netved, renewed. 

Newefangel, adj., desirous of new things : 
newe/angelness, n., inconstancy. 

Nexte, superl. d., nighest. 

Nice, adj. (a.n.), foolish. 

Nyceik, n., folly. 

Nyfles, n. pi., trifles. 

Nygard, n. (a.n.), a stingy fellow; 
nigardie, n., stinginess. 

Nightertale (a.s.), night-time. 

Night-spel, n. (A.s.), a night-charm. 

Noblesse, n. (A.x.), dignity, splendor. 

Nobley, n., noblesse. 

Noie, n. (A.N.), hurt, trouble ; v., to hurt, 
to trouble. 

Nomen, nome, part. pa. of nime (A.s.), 
taken. 

Nomoo, adv. (a.s.), no more. 

Nones : Jor the nonts, i. e., for the occa- 
sion, for once. 

Nonne, n. (a.n.). a nun. 

Noon, n. (a.>-.), the ninth hour of the 
natural day ; nine o'clock in the morn- 
ing ; the hour of dinner. 

Novice, n. (A.x.), a nurse. 

Norlelrye, n. (A.^^), nurture, education. 

Nose-t/iirles, n. pi. (A.S.), nostrils. 

Not, for ne wot, know not. 

Notabilite, n. (A.N.), a thing worthy of 
observation. 

Note, n. (A.S.), need, business. 

Nofemiige, n., a nutmeg. 

Noi-hxl, a head like a nut. 

Nother, conj. (A.s.), nor, neither. 

Nothing, adv. (A.s.), not, not at ail. 

Nought, n. and adv. (a. 8.). See naught. 

Nouthe, adv. (A-s.), now. 

Notrche, n., a clasp or buckle. 

Now, adv. : now and now, once and 
again. 

Nowel, n. (A.N.), Christmas. 

O. adj. for on, one. 
Obeysaunce, n. (A.N.), obedienc©. 



622 



GLOSSAItT. 



nhe)/sanf, part, pr., obedient. 

Oliserraunce, n. (A.N ), lespect. 

Ofjserre, V. (A.N.), to respect, to pay re- 
gard to. 

Offtnded, part. pa. (A.N.), hurt. 

OJfensioun, n., offence, damage. 

Offnjng, n., offering at mass. 

Ofttnslth, oftentimes. 

Oyncment, n. (A.N.), ointment. 

Olifaitnt, n (A.N.), an elephant. 

Oliver s, n. pi. (A.N.), olive-trees. 

071, aim, adj. (.A.s.), one : afhr on, alike : 
tht'j/ UK-re at on, they were agreed . 
ever in oon, continually : / mhie on, 
1 single, 1 by myself. 

Oned, pan. pa. (A.s.), made one, united. 

Ones, pi. of on ; toe three ben alle ones, 
we three are all one. 

Ones, adv (a.s.), once: at cones, at once, 
at the same tiiiie 

Only, adv (a.s.), solely. 

Open-ers, u. (a.s.), the fruit of the med- 
lar-tree. 

Open-heded, adj., bare-headed. 

Opye, n. (AN.), opium. 

Oppresse, v. (a.n.), to ra\ ish ; oppressed, 
part. pa. ; oppression, n , rape 

Or, adv. (A.S.), ere, before. 

Oratory, n. (A.N.), a chapel, a closet 

Ordered, part, pa., ordained, in holy 
orders. 

Or d res foure, the four orders of mendi- 
cant friars. 

Ordmaunce, n. (A.N.), orderly disposi- 
tion 

Ordinat, part, pa., ordei ly, regular. 

Ore,w. (A.S.), grace, favor 

Orfreys, n. (.\.N.), gold embroidery. 

Orisont, n. (A.N.), the horizon. 

Orisoun, n. (A.N.), a prayer. 

Orologe, n. (A.N.), a clock or dial. 

Other, adj. (a.s.), the other of two ; 
otheres, gen. ca. 

Other, conj (A.s.), or^ either. 

Oughne, adj. (A.s.), own. 

Over, prep. (A..S.), above. 

Over, adj. (A.s.), upper , overest, super!., 
uppermost. * 

Ooer-yret, adj. (A.S.), too great, 

Over-ladde, part, pa., overborne. 

Over-lippe, u., the upper lip. 

Over-live, v., to outlive. 

Over-name, overtaken. 

Over-thioart, adv. (A.s.), across, over, 
against. 

Ought (A.s ), anything. 

Ought, pa. t, of owe, owed: might is also 
used as an impers. in the pr. and pa t. • 
wel ought us werke, well behoveth it us 
to work. 

Ounding, n. (A.N.), waving, imitating 
waves. 

Outher, either. 

Outhees, n., outcry. 

Outrage^ n. (A.jsr.), violence. 



Outraye, v. (A.N.), to fly out, to be out. 

rageous. 
Outrely, adv. (a.n.), utterly, entirely. 
Out-rydere, n. (A.s.), a rider out. 
Out-taken, part pa. , taken out, excepted. 
Owe, V. (A.S.), I owe, I ought; owen, pi. 
Owher, adv. (A.s.), anywhere. 

Paas, n. (a.n.), a foot-pace. 

Pace, v. (A.N.), to pass ; to surpass. 

Payd, part, pa., pleased, contented. 

Paindemaine, a sort of white bread. 
Skinner derives it from panis matto- 
tinus, pain de matin, morning bread. 
Tyrwhitt thinks it derived from the 
province of Maine, where it was per- 
haps made \\\ the greatest perfection. 

Paleys, n. (a.n.), a palace. 

Paling, n. (a.n.), imitating pales. 

Palled, part. pa. (a.n.), made pale. 

Palmeres, n. ph. pilgrims. 

Pan, n. (a.s.), the skull, the head. 

Panade, n. (a.n.), a knife, or dagger. 

Papinjay, n. (a.n.), a parrot. 

Par, prep, (a.n.), par amour, with or 
by love ; par compagnie, for companj' ; 
par chaunce, by chance ; par cuer, by 
heart, in memory. 

Parage, n (A.n.), kindred. 

Paramour, paramours, n. (a.n), love, 
gallantry ; a lover of either sex. 

Paraventure, adv. (a.n.), haply, by 
chance. 

Parcel-mele, adv. (a.s ), by parcels, or 
parts. 

Parde (A N."), a common oath, literally, 
by God. 

Pardoner, n. (A.N.), a seller of pardons 
or indulgences. 

Parements, n. pi. (a. n.), ornamental 
furniture, or clothes : chambre de 
parement, is translated by Cotgrave, 
the presence-chamber ; and lit de pare- 
ment, a bed of state. 

Parentele, parenteal, n. (a.n.), kindred. 

Par/ay (A.n.), by my faith. 

Parfit,perjight, adj. (A.n.), perfect. 

Parfourme, v. (a.n.), to perform. 

Parischens, n. pi. (a.n.), parishioners. 

Paritorie, n. (a.n.), the herb parietaria, 
or pellitory of the wall. 

Parlement, ii. (A.N.), au assembly for 
consultation. 

Parten, inf. m. (A.N.), to take part. 

Partie, n. (a.n.), a part, a party in a dis- 
pute- 

Parvis, n. (A.N.), a portico before a 
church. 

Passe, v. (A.n), to surpass, to excel ; to 
judge, to pass sentence. 

Pax, to kiss the pax ; a religious cere- 
mony. 

Payeu, adj. (A.N.), pagan : payenes, 
n. pi., heathens; paynymesf n. pi., 
pagans. 



GLOSSABT. 



623 



Penniinf. adj. (A.X.), pecuniary, paid in 
niuiiey. 

Pecs, n. (A.N.), peace. 

7V«,7««/, n. (A.N.), a person doing peu- 
aiice. 

Penible, adj (A.N.), industrious, pains- 
taking. 

Penetencer, n. (a.n.), a priest who en- 
joins penance in extraordinary cases. 

Penner, n., a pen-case 

J'lnouii. pyyioun, n. (A .X.), a streamer, or 
ensign. 

Pirel, n. (A.N.), apparel. 

J'cere, n. (a.n.), a peer, an equal. 

Pireijnne, adj. (A.N.^, wandering, 

Pcr/'onette, n., a young pear. 

Pcrrije, n. (A.N.), jewels, precious stones. 

Pcrs, adj. (A.N.), sliy-colored, of a bluish 
gray. 

Pcrs/y, n., parsley. 

Ptranne, n. (A.N.), a man , a parson, or 
rector of a church. 

Pert, adj. (A-x.), open. 

Pertnurbe, v. (a.n.), to trouble ; pertourb- 
iug, n., disturbance. 

Pery, n. (A.x.), a pear-tree. 

Peyne, n. (A.x.), penalty ; grief, torment, 
labor ; v.. to torturej to put to pain , 
to give oneself trouble. 

Peytrel, n. (A.N.), the breast-plate of a 
horse. [[)hisike, 

PInsik, n. (A.x.), medicine; dootour of 

Picche, n. (A. s.), pitch. 

Pie, n. (A.x ), a magpie, a prating gos- 
sip, or tell-tale. 

Pier-rie, n. (A.x.), jewels, precious stones. 

Picjciesveyohe, a term of endearment. 

Pifi/it, pa. t. ot 2)ike, v. (a..s.), pitched. 

Pike, V. (A.S.), to pitch ; to pick, as a 
hawk does his feathers ; to steal. 

Pikerel, n (a.s.). a young pike. 

PiUr, n. (an.), a pillar. 

Pil<i,pyle, V. (A..X.), to rob, to plunder. 

Piled, adj., bald. 

Pilnurs, n. pi. (A.x.), plunderers. 

I'l/weheer, n. (A.s.), the covering of a 
pillow. 

Pimenf, n., spiced wine, wine mixed 
with honey. 

Pyuche, v. (a.n ), to pinch : ther couthe 
no mart pynche at Jiis writyncj, not one 
could lay hold of any tlaw iii his wrlt- 
iujis. 

Pyne, n. (A.x.), pain, grief ; v., to tor- 
ment ; pyned, purt. pa., tortured. 

Pis/el, n., an epistle, a short lesson. 

I'ilaxince, n. (a-x.), a mess of victuals ; 
it properly means an extraordinary 
allowance of victuals, given to mon^ 
astics, in addition to their usual com- 
mons. 

Pith, n. (A.S.), marrow, strength. 

Pilous, adj.(A.N.), merciful, compassion- 
ate, exciting compassion : uitouslyt 
pitifuUy. 



Pleyne, v (a.n.), to complain. 

Pldt,plafte adj. (A.N.). Hat, plain ; it is 
often useu as an adverb. 

Platly, adv., datly, directly. 

Pleyn, adj. (A.N.),'full, perfect. 

Pleasaunce, n. (an.), pleasure. 

Plesynges, n. pi., pleasures. 

Plete, v. (A.x.), to plead. 

Pletyng, n., pleading, arguing 

Plye, V (.\.x.). to bend, or mould. 

Plight, n., condition. 

Plight, pa. t. a)id part, of pluck (A.s.), 
pulled, plucked. 

Plighte, v. (A.s.). to engage, to promise. 

Plyt, plight, condition. 

Poeple, n. (A.x.), people. 

Poynt, n. (A.x.), the principal business, a 
stop, or full point : in good poynt, in 
good case, or condition ; at poynt devys, 
with the greatest exactness. 

Pomtel, n. (A.x ), a style, or pencil, for 
writing. 

Poke, n. (A.x.\ a pocket, a bag. 

Polyve, n., a pulley. 

Pol lax. n. (A.N.), a halberd. 

Pomel, n. (a.n.), any ball, or round 
thing, the top of the head. 

Pomelcc, adj. (A.x.), spotted with round 
spots like apples, dappled :^ pomelee 
grin, of a dapple-gray color. 

Popillot, n., this word may either be 
considered as a diminutive from pou- 
pee, a puppet, or as a corruption of 
papillot, a young butterfly. 

Popet, n. (A.x.), a puppet. 

Popper, n.. a bodkin ; a dagger 

Poj-e, V , to look earnestly. 

Pore, adj , poor. 

Porphurie, pr. n., of a species of marble^ 
porph>Ty. 

Port, n. (.\.N ), carriage, behavior 

Portos, n. (A.X.), a breviary, portifo- 
rium. 

Pose. n.. a rheum, or defluxion, obstruct- 
ing the voice. 

Pose, V. (A.X.), to suppose, to put a 
case. 

Possessioners, n. pi., an invidious name 
for such religious communities as were 
endowed with lands. &c. The mendi- 
cant orders professed to live entirely 
upon alms. 

Paste, n. (A.x.), power. 

Potent, u. (A.X.), a staff, a walking- 
stick. 

Potestate, n. (A.x.), a principal magis- 
trate. 

Pouche, n. (A.N.), pocket, pouch. 

Porerte, n.(A.N.), poverty. 

Pouvsoved, part. pa. (A.N.), punche<J 
with a bodkin. 

Poupe, v.. to make a noise with ahom. 

Ponr. adj. (A.N.), poor. 

Poii'rc, to pore. 

Practike, u. (A.N.), practice^ 



624 



GLOSSARY. 



Preambulation, n., preamble. 
Precious, adj. (A.N.), over-nice. 
Predicacioun, n. (A.N.), preaching, a ser- 
mon. 
Frees, n. (A.n.), a press, or crowd. 
Prcntys, n. (a.n.), an apprentice : pren- 

tyshnod, u., apprenticeship. 
Preparat, part. pa. (a.n.), prepared. 
Prese, v. (a.n.), to press, or crowd. 
Present, v. (a.n.), to offer, to make a 

present of. 
Prest, adj. (A.N.), ready. 
Preve, v. (A.N.), to try, to demonstrate by 

trial ; to turn oat upon trial- 
Pj'ick, n. (A.S.), a point, a pointed wea- 
pon : v., to wound, to spur a horse, to 
ride hard : prikyna, n., hard riding. 
Pricasour, n., a hard rider. 
Pridtles, adj., without pride. 
Prye, v., to look curiously. 
Prime, adj. (a.n.), tirst- 
Prime, n., the first quarter of the arti- 
ficial day : half way prime, prime half 
spent : prime large, prime far ad- 
vanced. In 1. 10387, it seems to be 
used metaphorically for the season of 
action or business. 
Primerole, n. (A.n.), a primrose. 
Prys, n. (A.n.), price, value, praise. 
Prive, adj. (A.n.), private : prive man, a 
man entrusted with a private busi- 
ness. 
Pryvyly, adv., privately. 
Pryvyte, n., private business. 
Prhce.s, n. (A.N.), progress. 
Professioun, n. (A.N.), the monastic pro- 
fession. 
Proheme, a preface. 
ProUe, v., to go about in search of a 

thing. 
Proverbe, n. (A.N.), a prudential maxim : 

v., to speak proverbially. 
Prow, n. (A.N.), profit, advantage. 
Pullaile, n. (a,n.), poultry. 
Pill led hen. It is said that a hen whose 
feathers are pulled, or plucked off, will 
not lay any eggs. 
Pure, adj. (A.n.), mere, very. 
Pured. part, pa., purified, 
Purfiled, part, pa., guarded, or fringed. 
Purpos, n. (A.N.), purpose, design, prop- 
osition in discourse. 
Puriraye, v. (a.n.\ to draw a picture. 
Purtreyour, n., a drawer of pictures. 
Purtreture, n., a picture, or di-awing. 
Purveyance, n. (A.n.), foresight, provi- 
dence, provision. 
Purvey e, v., to foresee, to provide. 
Putrie, n. (A.N.), whoredom. 
Putours, n. pi., whoremongers. 

Quad, quade, adj. (A.s.)> bad. 

Quakke, n., seems to be put for an inar- 
ticulate noise, occasioned by any ob- 
etructiou iu the throatt 



Qualme, n. (A.s.), sickness ; the noise 

made by a raven. 
Quarels, n. pi. (A.N.), square arrows. 
Queynt, n. (A.N.), the sexual parts of a 
woman. 

Queynt, adj. (a.n.), strange ; cunning, 
artful ; trim, neat. 

Queynt, pa. t. and part, of quench (A.s.). 
quenched. 

Queyntise, n. (A.N.), trimness, neatness, 
excessive trimness ; cunning. 

Quelle, V. (A.s.), to kill, to destroy. 

Querne, n. (A.s.), a hand-mill. 

Qtieste-mongers, n. pi., packers of in- 
quests, or juries, 

Qmjk, adj. (A.s.), alive, 

Quyken. v., to make alive : quyked, part, 
pa., made alive. 

Quiked, pa. t. of the same v. used in a 
neutral sense ; became alive. 

Quynyble, n., a musical instrument, the 
exact description of which seems not 
to be ascertained. 

Quyte, adj. (a.n.), free, quiet ; v., to re- 
quite, to pay for, to acquit. 

Quyfeiy, adv., freely, at liberty. 

Qiiod, pa. t. of q net he, said. 

Quook, pa. t. of quake (A.s.), trembled, 
shook. 

Quoth, pres. t. of quethe, says. 

Pa, n. (A.S.), a roe-deer. 

Pad, radde, pa. t. of rede (A.s.), advised, 

explained, 
Pafles, 11, pi. (A.N.), plays with dice. 
Eafte, pa. t. of reve (A.s.), took away 
liaye, v. (A.N.). to toy wantonly. 
Raqerie, n., wantonness. 
Rakel, adj., hasty, rash ; rakelnesse, n., 

rashness. 
Pammish, adj. (A.s.), rank, like a ram. 
Pampe, v. (a.n.), to climb. 
Rape, adv. (a.s.), quickly, speedily. 
Rape, v. (a.s-), to seize and plunder, to 

take captive. 
Rafyd, part, pa., chidden. 
Rathe, adv. (a.s.), soon, early, speedily; 

rather, sooner ; former ; rathest, soon- 

Rafo'uns, n. pi. (a,n,). rats. 

Rauqht, pa. t. (A s.), reached. 

Rau'ght (A.S.), fromrecche, cared, rekked. 

Raunsoun, n. (a.n.), ransom. 

Real, adj. (a.n.), royal ; realler, mon^ 

royal ; reallich, adv., royally. 
Realty, n., royalty. 

Rtbekke, n. (a.n,), a musical instrument. 
Rechased, pa, t. (A.N.), a term in 

ing. 
Recche, rekke, v. (A.s.), to care, 
Reccheles, adj., careless. 
Recchelesness, n., carelessness. 
Reclaime, v. (a.n.), a term in falconry 

for bringing the hawk to the fist by a 

certain call. 



GLOSSARY, 



625 



Jiecomforie, v. (A.N.), to comfort. 

ttecorde, v (A.N.),to remember ; to enter 
upon record in judioial proceedings. 

Recreant, adj.^A-^'.^. one who yields him- 
self to his adver.<ary in single combat. 

Beddf, red, pa. t. of rede. 

Rede, v (A.s.), to advise, to read, to ex- 
plain ; n., advice, counsel ; a reed. 

Redoufe, v. (A.N.), to fear ; redouhjng, n., 
reverence. 

Redresse, v. (A.x.), to make amends for. 

Reed, adj (A.s.), red. 

Re/te, rifle, n. (A..s.).a chink, or crevice. 

Refute, h. (A.N.), refuge. 

Regals, n. pi (A.N.), royalties. 

Regard, n.(A.N.), at regard of, with re- 
spect to, in comparison of. 

Regne, n. (A.s.), a kingdom. 

Rehete, v. (A.m.), to revive, to cheer. 

Rektn v. (A.s.), to reckon, to come to a 
reckoning, 

Relees, n. (A.N.), release. 

Relllce, n. (a.n.), a relic ; reJikes, pi. 

Remenaunt, u. (A.^■.), a remnant, a re- 
maining part. 

Remes, n. pi. (A.N.), realms. 

Remuabte, adj. (A.K.), movable, change- 
able, inconstant. 

Rtviue, remeice, remeve, v. (A.N.), to re- 
move. 

Reliable, adj. (a.n.), reasonable; renably, 
adv., reasonably. 

Renege, v. (A.N.), to renounce, to abjure. 

RciKies, n. pi., ranks, the steps of a 
ladder. 

Renne, v. (A.s.), to run. 

Rename, n. (A.x.), renown. 

Renortlle, v. (A.N.), to renew. 

Repaire, n. (a.n ), resort. 

Rcpaire, v. (A.N.), to return. 

Reprefe, repreve, n. (.A.N.), reproof 

Rettco'us, n. (A.N.), rescue. 

Respifen, inf. m. (a.n.), to grant a re- 
spite, to excuse. 

Retentie, n. (A.n.), retinue: at his re- 
tenue, retained by him. 

Reeve, n. (A.S.), a steward, or bailiff. 

Reve, v. (A.s.), to take away. 

Revel, n. (An.), entertainment, properly 
during the night ; sport, festivity. 

Revelnur, n., a reveller. 

Revelrie. n., pleasure. 

Rew, n., a row, or line ; on a rew, in a 
line. 

Reward, n.{K.-*/i.), regard, respect: take 
reward of thine oiven value, have re- 
gard to ; in reward of, in comparison 
with. 

Rewe, V. (.\.s.), to have compassion; to 
suffer ; to have cause to repent. 

Reyced, made military expeditions ; jour- 
neyed, 

Rihnude, ribald, n. (a.n.), a low, profli- 
gate u^an; a base class in medieval 
society. 

40 



Ribaudye, n., ribaldry, indecent words or 
actions. 

Ribibe, n.. a musical instrument; the 
same as rebekke. 

Ribible. n., a small ribibe. 

Richesse, n. (a.n.), wealth ; richesses, pi., 
riches. 

Rimyden, part. pa. (a.n,), composed in 
rhyme or verse. 

Rys, n. (a.s.), small twigs of trees or 
bushes. 

Ryst, riseth. 

Ryt, rideth. 

Rive, V, (A.s.), to thrust through ; to 
split. 

Roche, n. (A.N.), a rock. 

Rode, n. (A.s.), complexion. 

Rody, adj. (A.s.), ruddy. 

RombeL n., a rumbling noise, a rumor. 

Rome, V. (A.s.), to walk about. 

Roode, n, (A.s.), the cross; roode-bem, the 
beam of the cross, 

Roser, n, (a.n,), a rose-bush. 

JiOte, n, (a,s.), a root ; a musical instru- 
ment; n. (A.n,), practice: ty rote, by 
heart. 

Rought; for raught, 

Rouke, V. (A.S.), to lie close. 

Route, V. (A.S.), to roll, to stroll, to stray. 

Roume, adj., wide, spacious : roumer, 
wider. 

Rouncy, n. (A.N.), a common hackney 
horse. 

Roundel, n. (A.N.), a sort of song. 

Route, n. (A.N.), a company. 

Ro^ite, V (A.N.), to snore, to roar ; to as- 
semble in a company, 

Routhe, n. (a-s,), compassion, the object 
of compassion ; routheles, adj., with- 
out compassion. 

Row, adj, (A,s,), rough, 

Rowne, v. (a.s.), to whisper. 

Rubeus, n. pi. (a.s,), rubies. 

Rudde, n, (A.s.), complexion. See i-ode. 

Ruggy, adj, rough. 

RiL-isel, pr. n. The fox is called Dan 
Kussel from his red color. 

Sad. adj. (A.s.), grave, steady, seriously, 
repentant. 

Sadly, adv., steadily, carefully, seri- 
ously. 

Sadness, n., gravity, steadiness 

Salue, V. (A.N.), to salute 

Sanguin, adj. (A.N.), of a blood-red 
color. 

Save, n , the herb sage. 

Sauf, adj. (a.n,), safe ; saved, or ex- 
cepted, 

Savoxir, v. (A.N.), to taste, to relish. 

Savouryng, n., the sense of tasting. 

Savourous, adj , sweet, pleasant. 

Sauns, prep, (\.'s.), without, 

Saivcejic'.u, pimpled ; or, perhaps, Bcal> 
by. 



626 



GLOSSARY. 



Sautrie, n. (A.N.), a musical string-in- 
strument. 

Sawe, n (a.s.), speech, discourse ; a 
proverb, or wise saying. 

Say, saw. 

Scathe, skafhe, n. (A.s.). harm, damage. 

Scatheful, scatheliche, adj., peniioions. 

Schadde, pa. t. of schede, v. (A.s), fell in 
drops. 

Scliaft, n. (A.S.), an arrow. 

Sc/ialfotv, for scha!t thou. 

Schnpehj, adj (as.), fit. likely. 

Schan-e, n. (A.h.;, a shade of trees, a 
grove. 

Schendv, v (A .8.), to ruin, destroy. 

Schendship, n., ruin, punishment. 

Schene, adj. (A.s.), bright, shining. 

Schent,pa,vt. pa, of schende, ruined, de- 
stroyed. 

Schipne, schepne% n. (A.s.), a stable. 

Schere, v. (A.s.), to cut, to shave. 

Schete, v. (A.s.), to shoot- 

Schette, v. (A.s.), to close, or shut. 

Schilde, v. (A-S.), to .shield : God schiJde ' 
God shield, or forbid ! 

Schivere, n. (A.s.), a small slice. 

Schood, n. (a-s.), the hair of a man's 
head. 

Schonde, n. (A.s.), harm. 

Schope, pa. t., shaped. 

Schore, part. pa. of schere, cut. 

Schorie. v. (a..s.) to make short. 

Schot, part. pa. of shette. shut. 

Schoiove, V. (A.S.), to push. 

Schreive, v. (A.s.), to curse: n., an ill- 
tempered, curst man, or woman. 

Schrev'de, adj., wicked : shiewednes, ill- 
nature. 

Schrift, n. (A.s.), confession: schrifte- 
Jaders, father confessors. 

S'chrive, v. (A,s,), to make confession. 

Schriven, pan. pa., confessed. 

Schulde, schulden , should. 

Schullen, they shall. 

Sclaundre, n. (A.x.), slander. 

Scola/i, V. (A.N.), to attend school, to 
study. 

Scriple, n. (A.N,), a writing. 

Scriptures, n, pi. (A.N.), writings, books. 

Secre, adj. (a.n.), secret. 

Seculer, ad], (a.n.). of the laity, in op- 
position to clerical. 

See, n, (A.s.), a seat ; sees, pi. ; see, n. 
(A.S.), the sea, 

Seeten, sat. 

Sege, n. (A.N.), a siege. 

Se'ye. sey, pa. t. of see, saw ; part, pa., 
seen. 

Seignarie, n. (a.n.), power. 

Seyn, part. pa. of see, seen. 

Seynde, singed. 

Seyytt, n. (a.n.), a girdle. 

Seke, V. (A.s.), to seek. 

Seke, adj. (a.s.), sick. 

Selden, adv. (a.s,), seldom. 



Sele, n. (a.n.), a seal. 

Self, selve, adj. (a.s.), same. 

Selle, n. (a.n.), a cell. 

Selle, n. (A.S.), a door-sill or threshold. 

Sely, adj. (A.s.), silly, simple, harmless. 

Semhlable, adj. (A.N.), like, resembling. 

Semblaunt, n. (A.N.), seeming, appear- 
ance. 

Semeliche, semyly, adj. (A.s.), seemly, 
comely ; semelieste, superl. 

Semelyhede, n., seemliness, comeliness, 

Semysouii. n. , a low or broken tone. 

Semycope, n., a half or short cloak. 

Send, seiideth. 

Sendal, n., a thin silk. 

Senge, v. (A.s.), to singe. 

Sentence, u. (A,N.), sense, meaning, judg- 
ment. 

Seryeaiint, n. (A.N.), a squire attendant 
upon a prince or nobleman. 

Serle, n. (a.n.), series. 

Servage, n. (a.n.), servitude, slavery. 

Setewale, n (a.n.), the herb valerian. 

Sethe, v. (a.s.), to boil. 

Sethe, pa. t., boiled. 

Seurement, n. (.v.N.), security in a legal 
sense. 

Seuerte, n. (A.N.), certainty, surety, in a 
legal sense. 

Serves, n. pi. (a.n.), dishes of victuals. 

Seyn, v. (A.s ), to say. 

Shef, n. (A-s.), a bundle, a sheaf of ar- 
rows. 

Shrighf, shrieketh ; shrieked. 

Sibbe, adj. (a.s,), related, allied. 

Setgh, saw. 

Sike, adj. (A.s.), sick, 

Slke, V. (A.s.), to sigh ; n., a sigh. 

Syker, adj. (A.s.), sure. 

Sykerde, assured. 

Sykernes^e. n., security. 

Sykerly, adv., surely. 

Syn, adv. (A.s.), since, 

Synamome, n. (.\.n.), cinnamon. 

Sys, n. (A.N.), the cast of six, the high- 
est cast upon a die. 

Syt, sitteth. 

Sithe, n. pi. (.\.s.), times. 

Sythen, syfh, adv. (A-s.), since. 

S'kalled, adj., scabby, scurfy. 

Skil, n. (A.S.), reason. 

Skinke, v- (a.s.), to pour out, to serve 
with drink. 

Slake, adj. (A.s.), slow. 

Slake, V. (a.s.), to appease, to make 
slack ; to fail, to desist. 

Sle, slen, v. (a.s.), to kill, to slay. 

Sleer, n. (A.s.), a killer. 

Sleighly, adv. (A.s.), cunningly. 

Sleight, n., a contrivance. 

Slen, they slay. 

Slider, adj. (A.s.), slippery. 

Sliding, part, pr., uncertain. 

Stye, sligh, adj. (A.s.), cunning. 

Slik, such. 



GLOSSAEY, 



627 



Stif, he slides. 

Slogardie, li-, sloth. 

Slo'ppe, 11. (A.S.). a sort of breeches. 

Slow, slew. 

JS/u(/yy, adj. (A.S.), sluggish. 

iSmertc, v. (A.s.), to smart, to suffer pain. 

Smerte, adv., smartly. 

iSmiit, smites. 

iSmltvth, smite ye- 

Smythe, v. (A.s.), to forge, as a smith. 

Smokies, adj. (A.s.), without a smock. 

Smoterlic/i, adj., dirty. 

Sneioc, V. (A.s.), to snow. 

Siiybbe, v. (A.s.) to suubb, to rejirove. 

Soken, ii- (.■V.s.), toll. 

Solas, 71. (A.y.), mirth, sport. 

Solempne, adj. (A.n.), solemn. 

Somdil. adv. (A.s.), somewhat, in some 
measure. 

SompuL\ V. (A.N.), to summon. 

Sompnour, ii., an ottieer employed to 
summon delinquents to appear in ec- 
clesiastical courts. 

Sonde, u. (A.S.), a message ; a thing 
sent. 

Sonnisfh^ sidj', 'ike the sun. 

Sophime, n., a sophism, a subtle fal- 
lacy. 

Sort. n. (A.N.), chance, destiny. 

Sor^i^e, n. (A.s.). sorrow^. 

Sor>j,a,dj. (A.s.), sorrowful : sory grace, 
misfortune. 

Sote, n. (A.s.). soot. 

Sate, soote, svofe, adj. (A.s.), sweot. 

Soted, part. pa. (A.N.), fooled, besotted. 

Sotil, adj. (A.N.), subtle, artfully con- 
trived. 

Soth, adj. (A.S.). true, certain ; sothly, 
adv., truly ; sothe, n.; truth. 

Sothfastnes,n. (a.s.), truth. 

Soudan, n., a sultan; soudannesse, the 
wife of a sultan. 

Souded, part, pa., consolidated, fastened 
together. 

Soveraine, adj. <a.n.), excellent, in high 
degree. 

Soverainly, adv., above all. 

Souke, V. (A.N.), to suck. 

Smm, n. (A.N.), sound, noise. 

Sounde, v. (A.s.). to '>'ake sound, to heal; 
V. neut., to grow sound. 

Sonne, V. (A.N.). to sound. 

Soupe, V. (A.N.), to sup, to take the even- 
ing meal ; souper, n., supper. 

Souple, adj., supple, pliant. 

Sourde, v. (a.n.I, to rise. 

Sours, n., a rise, a rapid ascent; the 
source of a stream of water. 

Smcfer, ii., a cobbler. 

Spare, v. (A.S.), to refrain. 

Sparre, n. (a.s.), a wooden bar. 

Sparred, barred, bolted. 

Spectacle, n. (a.n.), a spying-glass. 

Spel, n. (A.S.), sport, play ; tale, or his- 
tory. 



Spence, n. (A.N.), a store-room for win« 

or victuals. 
Spere, n. (A.s.), a spur ; a spear. 
Sperme, n. (A.N.), seed. 
Spices, n. pi., sorts, or kinds. 
Spille, V. (A.S.), to waste, to throw away, 

to destroy ; v. neut., to perish. 
Spired, inquired. 

Spifous, adj. (a.n.), angry, spiteful. 
Sj)ifousli/, adv., angrily. 
SpoHsaile, n. (A.N.), marriage. 
Sprcynd, sprinkled. 
Squames, n. pl.^ scales. 
Staff-sling, a sling fastened to a staff. 
Stalke, V. (A.s.), to step slowly. 
Stalkes, n. pi. (A.s.), the upright pieces 

of a ladder. 
Stamen (a.n.), a sort of woollen cloth. 
Slant, stands. 
Star/, pa. t. of sterve, died. 
Stark, adj. (A.s.), stiff, stout. 
Stele, n. (A.s.), a handle : rakes stele, the 

handle of a rake. 
Stente, v. (A.s), to cease, to desist. 
Steep, stepe, adj., seems to be used in the 

sense of deep, so that eyen steep may 

signify eyes sunk deep in the head. 
Stere, n. (A.s.), a young bullock; arudder 

of a ship. 
Stereles, adj., without a rudder. 
Steresman, n., a pilot. 
SteiTc, n. (A.S.), a star. 
Slerf, n. (A.s.), a leap. 
Sterte, pa. t. of sterte, leaped, escaped, 

ran away. 
Sterre, v. (A.s.), to die, to perish. 
Steven, n. (a.s.), voice, sound ; a time of 

performing any action, previously 

fixed by message, order, summons, 

&c. ; at unset sfecen, without any pre- 
vious appointment ; they setten Steven^ 

they appointed a time. 
Stewe, n. (A.N.), a pond for fish. 
Stetres. pi., stews, bawdy-houses. 
Stillatorie, n. (A.N.), a still. 
Sfith, n., (A.S.), an anvil. 
Stocked, confined. 
Stole, n., part of the ecclesiastical habit, 

worn about the neck. 
Stole, n. (A.S.), a stool. 
Stonden, they stood. 
Stojit, stands. 

Stopen. stepped, advanced. 
Storial, adj. (a.n.), historical, true. 
Storvcn, they perished. 
Slot, n. (A.S.), a stallion. 
Stole, n. (A.S.), a species of weasel, a 

pole- cat. 
Stound, n. (A.S.), a moment, a short 

spa<e of time ; stoundes, pi., times. 

seasons. 
Stoure, n. (A.S.), fight, battle. 
Strange, adj (a.n.), foreign, uncommon: 

he made it sfrnnge, he made it a mat< 

ter of difficulty, or nicety. 



62S 



GLOSSARY, 



Straughtey stretched. 

Stre, n. (A.S.), straw. 

Streight, stretched. 

Streiine, v. (a.n.), to constrain^ to press 
closely. 

Streyte^ adj. (a.n.), strait. 

Stremes, n. (A.s.j, the rays of the sun. 

Strene, n. (a.s.), stock, race, progeny. 

Strike, n. (A.s.), a line, a streak, a stnke 
of flax. 

Sh-of, strove, contended. 

Sfronde, n. (A.s.), a shore. 

S/rowte, v., to strut. 

Sublimdtorie, n., a ves^sel used by chem- 
ists in sublimation, i. e-, sc-'iaraling 
certain parts of a body, and driving 
them to the top of the vessel, in the 
form of a very fine powder. 

Subsiaunce, n. (a.js.), the material pan 
of a thing. 

Sne, V. (A.N.), to follow. [faction. 

Suffisaunce, n. (a.n.), sufficiency, bali.- 

Sujfisaujif, adj., sufficient. 

Hurcnfe, u. (A.N.), au upper coat, < ; 
kirtle. 

Surpfis, n. (A.N.), a surplice. 

Smquedrle, n.(.v.N.), presumption, over- 
weening conceit- 

Sursannre, n. (.A-N.), a wound hoaleJ 
outwardly only. 

Surveauncc, n. (A.N.), superiutendence. 

Suspect, n., suspicion. 

Swa, adj. (a.s.), so. 

Swal, s we! led. 

Swappe, v. (A.S.), to throw down, to 
strike off; v. neut., to fall down. 

Swatte, sweated. 

Sivegh, n. (A.s.), a violent motion. 

Swelte, v. (A.S.), to die, to faint ; swelt, 
pa. t. 

Sivtven, n. (A.s.), a dream. 

Sicich, adj., such. 

Swi/nke, n. (A.s.), labor ; v., to labor. 

Swire, n. (A.s.), the neck. 

,S'wi//je, adv. (A.s. ), quickly, immediately. 

Swyve, V. (A.s.), to have sexual inter- 
course. 

Swoiwe, v. (A.s), to swallow 

Sioonkeii, part. pa. of swlnke, labored. 

Siooote, adj. (A.s.). sweet. 

Sioough, u. (AS-.), sound, noise ; a swoon. 

Tables, n. pi. (a.n.), a game so called. 
Taille, n. (a n.), a tally, an account 

scored on a piece of wood. 
Take, v. (A.s.), to give, to deliver a thing 

to another person. 
Takel, n. (A.s.), an arrow. 
Tale, n. (A.s.), reckoning, account : lilel 

tale hath he told of any dreme, he made 

little account of any dream. 
Talent, n. (a.n.), desire, affection. 
Talyng, n., story-telling. 
Tapinage, u. {a..js.), lurking, skulking 



Tapicer, n. (a.n.), a maker of tapestry, 

Tapstere, n. (a.s.), a woman who has the 
care of the tap in a public-house. 

Targe, n. (a.n.), a small shield. 

Tas, taas, n. (a.n.). a heap. 

Taste, V. (A.n.)» to feel, to examine. 

Taverner, ii. (a.n.), the keeper of a tav- 
ern. 
i Teche, v. (A.s.), to teach. 
i Teine, n., seems to signify a narrow, 

thin plate of metal. 
1 J'tijjps, n. (A.S.), time. 
I Tene, n. (A.S.), grief ; v., to grieve, to 
I atiiict. 

I Tercelet, tercel, n. (A.N.), the male hawk, 
I the male eagle. 

Terrestre, n. (a.n.), earthly. 

Testers, n. pi. (a.n.), head-pieces. 

Testes, n. pi., vessels for assaying metals. 

Testyf, adj. (a.n.), headstrong. 

Textual, adj. (a.n.), ready at citing 
texts. 

Thacke, v., to thump, to thwack, to 
; slap. 

Thanne. adv. (a.s.), then. 

Thar, v. impers. (.a.s.), behoveth ; needs. 

The, V. (A.S.), to thrive. 

Thedome, n. (a.s.), thrift, success. 

Tliennes, thenne. adv. (A.a.), thence. 

Theives, n. pi. (A.S.), manners, qualities. 

Tliilke, adj. (.a.s.), this same, that .-aiue. 

Thynke. v., to consider, to seem. 

Thynve, adj. (a.s.), slender, small. 

Tfiiji'ie, v- (A.S.), to pierce through. 

These, pi., these. 

Tho, those. 

Tho. adv.. then. 

Thole, V. (A.S.), to suffer. 

Thorpe, thrope, n. (a.s."), a village. 

Threpe, v. (A.s.), to call. 

Threste, v. (A.s.), to thrust. 

Threisshfold, n. (A.s.), a threshold. 

Threttene (A.s.), thirteen. 

Thridde. adj. (A.S.), third. 

Thrie, thrg, thries, adv. (A.s.), thrice. 

Thronge, thrust. 

Throstel, n. (a.s.). a thrush. 

Throw, n. (A.S.), time: but a throw, but 
a little while. [of. 

Thurgh, prep. (a.s.>. through, by means 

Thurrok, n. (A.s.), the hold of a ship. 

Thwitel, n. (A.s.), a whittle, a littlo 
knife. 

Tidde, part. pa. of tide (A.s.), happened. 

Tykel, adj. (A.s.), uncertain. 

Tit, prep. (A.s.), to. 

Timbesterre, n., perhaps a woman who 
played tricks with timbres, or basins 
of some sort or other, by throwing 
them up into the air, and catching 
them upon a single finger; a kind of 
balance-mistress. 

Timbres, n. pi. (a.n.), ba«ius. 

Tiptoon, n. pi. (A.s.), tiptoes, tlie ex- 
tremities of the toes. 



GLOSSARY. 



629 



Titleles, adj. (a.s,), without title. 

To, adv. (A.S.), too. 

■~, ill couipositiou with verbs, is aug- 
mentative : the helrnes t/u-i/ to-fiewen 
and to-shrede, hew and cut to pieces : 
the bones they to-breste, break in 
pieces ; fo-danhtd. much bruised ; fo- 
rent, rent iu pieces ; to-swynkt, labor 
greatly 

To/ore, toforen, prep. (A.s.)» before. 

J'uid, accounted. 

Tovibesterre, n. (A.s.), a dancing-woman. 

Tone,u. pi. (A.s-), toes. 

Toimt-grttt, adj., of the circumference of 
a tun. 

Toos, toes 

Tonties, n. pi. (A.N.), rings. 

Tuiti/, adj. (A.S.), dizzy. 

Touyh, adj. (a.s.), difficult: fo make it 
touyh, to take a great deal of pains. 

Touykt, adj (A.s.), tight. 

Tour, n. (A.N.), a tower. 

Toule, n.. the backside. 

Towel, tewel, u., a pipe, the fundament. 

Trace, n. (A.s.), a track or path. 

Trais, n. pi. (A.N.), the traces by which 
horses draw. 

Tninsmue, v. (A,N.), to transform. 

Trapjmres, n. pi., the cloths with which 
horses were covered for parade. 

Trave, n (A.N.), a frame in which far- 
riers put unruly horses. 

Tre, n. (A.s.), a tree, wood. 

Tregetour, n. (a.x), a juggler. 

Trental, n., a service of thirty masses, 
w hich were usually celebrated, upon as 
many different days, for the dead. 

Tirsse, n. (a.x.), an artiticial lock, or 
gathering of hair. 

Tressed, gathered in a tress, or tresses. 

Tretable, adj. (a.n.). tractable. 

Trefis, adj. (a.n,), long and well propor- 
tioned. 

Triacle, n. (A.X."), a remedy in general. 

Trice, v. (a.s.). to thrust. 

Trie, adj. tried or refined ; chosen. 

Trille, v, (A.s.), to twirl, to turn round ; 
to roll, to trickle. 

Trine, adj (A.X.), triple. 

Trip, n., a small piece of cheese. 

Trnmpe, n. (A.N.), a trumpet. 

Trnmpnnr, n., a trumpeter. 

TronrJioun, n. (A.N.), a spear without a 
head. 

Trouble, adj. (A.N.), dark, gloomy. 

Trove, v. (A.S.), to believe. 

Truandise, n, (A.N.), begging, wandering 
abroad. 

Tulle, V. (A.S.), to allure. 

Turmcnfise. n. (a.n.), torment. 

Tweifold, adj. (A.s.), double. 

Tn-if'/ht, pulled, plucked. 

Tunnve, v. (A.s.). to depart from a place, 
or thing ; to separate ; twinned, sepa- 
rated. 



Twist, n. (A .8.), a twig. 

Twiste, V. (A.S.), to twitch, to pull hard. 

Twy, adv., twice. 

Ugly, adj. (A.s.), horrid, frightful. 
Unce, n., ounce. 

Unconning, part, pr., ignorant , n., ignor- 
ance. 
Vncouth, part, pa., unknown, uncom- 
mon, not vulgar, elegant. 
Undergrowe, part, pa., undergrown, of a 

low stature. 
Underling, n. (A-s.), an inferior. 
Undermele, u. (A.s.), the time after the 

meal of dinner ; the afternoon. 
Undern, n. (.A..S.), the third hour of the 

artiticial day ; nine o clock, a.m. 
Underuome, took up, received. 
Underpiyht: he dranke, and well his gir- 

del underpight, he drank, and stuffed 

his girdle well. 
Underspore, v. (A.s.), to raise a thing, bj 

putting a spear, or pole, under it. 
Understonde, part, pa., understood. 
Unfestliche, adj., not suitable to a feast. 
Unhete, n. (A..s.), misfortune. 
Unkindehj, adv., unnaturally. 
Unlusf, n. (A.S.), dislike. 
Unnethe, unnefhes, adv. (A.s.), scarcely, 

not easily, never. 
Unrest, n., want of rest, uneasiness. 

trouble. 
Unright, n., wrong. 
Unsad, adj., unsteady. 
Unselij, adj., unhappy. 
Unset, part. pa. , not appointed. 
Unshette, pa. t.. opened. 
Unslekked, part. \>a., unslaked. 
Unso/f, adj., hard. 
Unsufficieiit, adj., insufficient. 
Unthank, n., no thanks, ill-will. 
Until, prep. (A.s.), to. unto. 
Uvtime, n., an unseasonable time. 
Untressed, part, pa., not tied in a trees, 

or tresses. 
Unfriste, v., to mistrust. 
Untrust, n.. distrust. 
Unwnre, part, pa., unforeseen. 
Unn-eld, adj., unwieldy. 
Uvtremmed, part- pa., unspotted. 
Uvirefinrt, ])art. pr., not knowing. 
Unu-etivgJy, adv., ignorantly. 
Unwist, part, pa., unknown. 
Unwit, n., want of wit. 
Uny olden, part, pa., not having yielded. 
Up, prep. (A.S.), upon : up on I'orid, up 

in the country ; up so doun, upside 

down. 
Upper, higher. 

Uphaf, pa, t. of npheve. heaved up. 
Upon, adv., he had upon, he had on. 
Upright, adj. (A.S.), straight. 
Usage, n. (a.n.), experience, practice. 
Usant, part. i>r. (a.n.), using, accue» 

tomed. 



630 



GLOSSARY, 



Utter, adv. (A s.), outward, more out. 
Uttereste, uttermost. 

Vttrtu, V. (A.S.), to publish ; to give out, 
sell. 

Vaine, n. (A.N.), vein. 
Vaiure, u. (a.n.), value. 
Variaunt (a.n.), changeable. 
Vassalage, n. (a.n.), valor, courage. 
Vavasour, n The i)recise import of this 
word is often us obscure as its original. 
Perhaps it should be understood to 
mean the whole class of middling land- 
holders. 
Ventrye, n. (A.n.), hunting; the chase. 
Vtnlusyny, n. (A.n.), cupping ; a surgi- 
cal term, 
Verament, adv (a.n.), truly. 
Verray, adj. (a.n ,, true. 
Verdegresse, n. (a.n.), the rust of brass. 
Verger, n. (A.N.), a garden. 
Vernage (A.n.), a species of wine. 
Vtrnicle, u., diminutive of reromke 
(A.N.). A copy in miniature of the pic- 
ture of Christ, wliich is supposed to 
have been miraculously imprinted 
upon a handkerchief, preserved in the 
Church of St. Peter at Home. It was 
usual for persons returning from pil- 
grimages to bring with them certain 
tokens of the several places which 
they had visited ; and therefore the 
pardoner, wlio is just arrived from 
Koine, is represented with a veniicle 
sewed upon his cappe. 
- Vertuous. adj. (A.n), active, elHcacious, 
Vessel, w. (A.n.). plate. 
Viage,i\. (A.n.), a journey. 
Vicary, n-, vicar. 

Vigile, vig'Vie, n. (a.n.), the eve of a 
festival , the wake, or watching, of a 
dea<i body. 
r?///anic, n.(A.N.),.auy thing unbecom- 
ing a gentleman. 
Vinolent, adj., full of wine 
Virelaye, n. (A.n.), "around ; freeman's 

song." Cotgrave. 
Visaijp, V. (A.N.), to front, to face a 

thing. 
Voyde, V. (A.N.), to remove, to quit, to 

iriake empty, to depart, to go away. 
Volac/e, adj. ("a.n.), light, giddy. 
Vo/atUe, n. (a.n.), wild fowls, game. 
Volunte, n. (A.N.), will. 
Vohipere, n., a woman's cap ; a night- 
cap. 
Von die, v. (A.N,): voucTien sniif, to vouch- 
safe : vmicheth savf, vouchsafe ye ; 
the Hvg vouches it save, the king 
vouchsafes it, 

Wnar, adj. (A.s.), aware. 
Waferers, n. pi., sellers of wafers. 
Wafmires, ii. pi,, wafers, a sort of 
cAkes. 



Waqct, 3321 : a light waget is supposed 

to mean a light blue color, 
U'ayiiK niing, n. (A.S.), lamentation. 
Wayne, n. (A.s.), a wagon. 
Walte, V. (A,N.), to watch. 
Wake, V. (a.s,), to watch, 
Walawa, or Wa la tea, interj, (a.s.), 

Woe ! alas ! 
Wahve, v. (A.s.), to tumble about, to 

wallow. 
Wane, v, (A,s.), to decrease. 
Wang, n. (A.s.), a cheek-tooth. 
Wanger, n. (A..s.), a support for the 

cheek, a pillow, 
Wanhope, n. (A.s,), despair. 
Wan trust, n. (A.s,), distrust, 
Wardecorps, n, (A.n.), body-guard. 
Wardeyn, n. (A.n.), a warden of a col- 
lege, a guard, a keeper of a gate : var- 

deyns, pi., guards, watchmen. 
Wardrobe, n. (A.n.), a privy, 
Wariangles, a small woodpecker, black 

and white of color, and but half as big 

as the ordinary green one, 
Warice, warish, v. (A.n.), to heal ; v. 

neut., to recover from sickness. 
Warisoun, n., reward, 
Warne, v. (A.s), to caution, to apprise, 

to refuse. 
Warnestore, v. (A,s.), to furnish, to 

store. 
Warrie, v. (A.s,), to abuse, to speak evil 

of. 
Wastel-breed, cake-bread, bread made of 

the.finest flour ; from the Fr. gasteau, 

a cake, 
Wastour, n. (a.n.), a spoiler. 
Waive, n. (A,s.), a wave. 
Way, adv., away ; do way, do away, put 
I away, 
Webbe, n. (A.s.), a weaver, 
Wedde, n. (A,s.), a pawn, or pledge. 
Wede, n, (A,s,), clothing, apparel, 
Weyve, v. (A.s.), to forsake, to declin ■ 

to refuse, to depart. 
Welde, V. (A.s-), to govern, to wield. 
Wele, n. (A.s,), wealth, prosperity, 
Weleful, adj,, productive of happiness. 
Welked (A,S,), withered, mouldy. 
Welkin, n, (A,s.), the sky. 
Welle, V. (A.s.), to flow, 
Welte, pa. t, of welde, governed. 
Wemme, n. (A.s.), a spot, a fault, 
Wenclie, n, (A,s.), a young woman. It is 

sometimes used in an opprobrious 

sense: / am a gentil woman, and no 

wenche. 
Wend, for evened, pa. t. of wene, thought, 

intended. 
Wende, wenden, v. (A.s.), to go. 
Wene, y. (A.S.), to think, to suppose. 
Went, part, pa, of wende, gone. 
W(pen,n. (A.s,), a weapon. 
Werke, n. (A,s.), work ; v., to worls. 
Weme, y., to warn. 



GLOSSARY, 



631 



Werre, n. (A.N.), war, 
Werreye, v. (A.N.), to make war against. 
Wert/, adj. (A.s.), weary. 
Wesh, pa. t. of ivash, washed. 
IFefe, adj. (a.s.), wet ; v., to wet- 
Wef(\ V. (A.S.), to know. 
Wether, n. (A.s.), the weather; a cas- 
trated ram. 
Wetijng, n. (A.s.), knowledge. 
Wex, pa. t. of ivaj:e or tcexe, v. (A.s.), 

waxed, grew. 
We.ctiiij, part, pa., increasing. 
W('y'\'u. (A.S.), a way. 
What. pron. indef., something : (t little 
what : what for lore (iiul for disfretis, 
partly for love, and partly "for distress. 
Wfieinies, adv., whence. 
Whtlhi r, adj. (.\.s.), which of two. 
WInIk, adj.(.Y.s.), which. 
W'uh-tohere, adv. (a.s.), widely, far and 

near. 
Wif, n. (A.s.), a wife, a woman. 
Wi/hode, n. (A.s.), the state of a wife. 
Wijlt'.-f, adj., unmarried. 
Wif II, adj., becoming a wife. 
Wufht, n. (A.S.), a creature; a person, 
male or female ; a small space of time; 
a wiich .; adj., active, swift: toUjhtes, 
n. pi., witches. 
Wll.-' t, n. (.V.N.), a wicket. 
Wlkki', adj. (A.S.), wicked. 
Willi, for wUlen, they will. 
Wilne, V. (A.s.), to desire 
Wymple, n. (a.n.), a covering for the 

neck. 
Windas, n. (A.X.), an engine to raise 

stones, &c. 
Winde, V. (A.s.), to turn round. 
Wisly, adv. (A.s.), certainly. 
W'lsae, V. (A.S.), to teach, to direct. 
Wisfe, knew. 

Wile, V. (A.S.), to know, to blame, to im- 
pute to ; n., blame. 
Withholde, v. (A.s-), to stop, retain, de- 
tain. 
Withsayn, withsaye, withseye, v. (A.s.), 

to contradict, todeny. 
Witte, n. (A.S.). understanding, capacity. 
Wiftes, n. pi., the senses of man. 
Wlatsom, adj. (.v.s.), loathsome. 
Wode, wand. adj. (A.s.), mad, violent ; 

v., to grow mad. 
Wodeu^ale, n-, a bird, a sort of wood- 
pecker. 
Wolde, wolden. would. 
Wold, part, pa., willed, being willing. 
WomanliL d(\ n.,y/omSinhoo<l, the virtue 

of a woman. 
Woned, dwelled. 

Wcme, n. (a-s.), custom, usage, habita- 
tion ; a heap, an assembly. 
Wone, v. (A.S.), to dwell. 
Woned, part, pa., wont, accustomed. 
Woning, n. (A.s.), a dwelling 
Wont, part. pa. of ivo7ie, accustomed. 



Woodness, n., madness. 

Wordles, adj., speechless. 

Worldes, the gen. c. of tcorld, is used in 
the sense of the adj. worldly : every 
tcorldes sore; my irorldes blisse. 

Wort, n. (A.S.), a plant, a cabbage ; new 
beer in a state of fermentation. 

Wost, knowest. 

Wote, V. (A.S.), to know. 

Wot, pa. t., knew. 

Woxe, grew. 

}f\\rtn, grown. 

Wrathen, v. (.A.s.), to make angry. 

Wrawe, adj. (A.s), peevish, angry. 

Wrawiieis, u., peevishness. 

Wreche, n. (A.s.), revenge 

Wrenches, n. pi. (A.s.), frauds, strata- 
gems. 

Wrest, V. (A.S.), to twist, to turn forcibly. 

Wreye, v. (A.s.), to betray. 

Wrye, v. (A.s.), to cover, to turn, to in- 
cline. 

Wright, n (A.s.), a workman, an arti- 
san. 

Wrote, v. (A.S.), to dig with the snout as 
swine do. 

Wnnight, made. 

Wys, adj. (A.s.), wise. 

Y at the beginning of many words, es- 
pecially verbs and particles, is a cor- 
ruption of the Saxon (ie : in Chaucer 
it does not appear to have any effect 
upon the sense of a word, so that there 
seems to be no necessity for inserting 
in a glossary such words as yblessed, 
y granted, dc., which differ not in sig- 
nification from blessed, granted, &c. 

Ya, adj. (a.s), yea. 

Tare. adv. (A.s.), ready. 

Yale, n. (A.s.), gate. 

Ye, adj (A.s.), yea. 

Yeddinges, feasts, or perhaps story-tell- 
ings. 

Yede (.\.S.), went. 

Yeffe, n. (A.s), a gift. 

Yelde, v. (A.s.), to yield, to give, to pay, 

Yelpe, v. (A.S.), to prate, to boast. 

Yelte, yields. 

Yeman, n. (A.s.), a servant of middling: 
rank, a bailiff. 

Yemunrie, n., the rank of a yeoman. 

yen, the eyes. 

Yerde, n. (A.S.), a rod or staff: tinder the 
ycrde,- properly said of children under 
discipline. 

Yeme, adj. (A.s.), brisk, eager ; adv., 
briskly, eagerly, early, soon, immedi- 
ately. 

Yeme, v., to desire, to seek eagerly. 

Yncnigh, ynon>,ady. (a.s.), enough. 

Yolden, given, yielded, repaid. 

Yore. adv. (a.s.), of a long time, a little 
before. 

Yoxe, V. (A.s. ), to hiccup. 







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